


Road Trip

by PageOne_2020



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Adventure, Allen and Kanda severely underestimated this, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comedy, F/M, Ghosts, Golden Retrievers to the rescue, If someone said this was a crack fic I wouldn't exactly disagree, Indigenous wildlife, M/M, Road Trip, They do everything but actually fly there, Timcanpy's got them covered, United States
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:13:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 37,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27319798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PageOne_2020/pseuds/PageOne_2020
Summary: Lavi and Lenalee are getting married.  In the Florida Keys.  Which isn't a problem, unless you're Allen, and your motorcycle breaks down, forcing you to bum a ride with Kanda to get there before the "I do"s.  21 hours, two bickering adults, and a golden retriever trapped in a small sedan... at least Timcanpy is having fun.
Relationships: Kanda Yuu/Allen Walker, Lavi/Lenalee Lee
Comments: 38
Kudos: 94





	1. Cats Don't Need to be Boarded

**Author's Note:**

> Hi gang, posted this on Fanfic.net and thought I'd try sharing it here too. Because, haha, I love a good road trip! I firmly believe the best way to learn about anyone is to take a multi-day ride across the country with them in a vehicle of undetermined size.
> 
> This story is basically finished at around 30,000 words. I'll post a new chapter every weekend unless something weird happens and I can't.
> 
> Enjoy!

Allen strapped his last bag onto the back of his motorcycle. 

The bag contained the three changes of clothes he'd need for the trip and dog food for Timpcanpy (Since that dog ate much like Allen, it took up a quarter of the backpack space). Allen would be renting the tux when he got to Florida, making that one less thing he had to pack.

One thing concerned the white-haired young adult – his motorcycle wouldn't start.

It was only ten years old. A sleek, apple-red Harley-Davidson. The first thing Allen had bought (and actually owned himself) while living with Cross Marian. The motorcycle had never failed him – not during his last year of high school (when Lavi was in his prankster phase and had locked the tires together during finals), not when Allen had started college (located over twenty miles away), and not last week when he'd needed to escape a particularly vengeful band of card sharps.

Allen's faithful bike had even accommodated Timpcanpy – the golden retriever fit snugly in the ruby side-car Allen had installed years ago; he'd felt bad leaving him alone all the time, and Timcanpy was surprisingly well-adapted to life on the road (probably thanks to his puppy-hood at Cross' side).

And yet, when he needed the bike to travel across the country for his best friend's wedding…

It wouldn't start.

As if his thoughts summoned the woman herself, Allen's phone buzzed. Pulling the device from his back-pocket, he paused long enough to see 'Lenalee' on the screen before answering.

"Hi Allen!" She greeted in her usual cheer. "How's the trip coming?"

Allen took a look at the leather seats of his bike, gaze traveling to the keys still in the ignition.

"Hey! I'm actually just about to take-off."

While not strictly true, Allen wanted to think positively. The bike was probably just… warming up, or something. It'd be fine if he left it for a few minutes, right?

A bark from his left alerted both listeners to Timcanpy's ('Tim' for short) entrance to the garage. The dog was carrying its red leash in its mouth as it marched in. As if to remind Allen not to leave him behind, the retriever cozied up to his master, excited to hit the road.

"Tim's ready to go, aren't you?" Allen smiled, rubbing the dog absently behind his floppy ears. The dog's tail was wagging so hard Allen was concerned it would fall off.

"How's the wedding planning coming?" He asked.

A groan from Lenalee over the phone. "You know, Bookman seems like a quiet guy, but he's actually very…"

"Traditional?"

"Yeah," she chuckled. Lenalee's voice was absent the stress most women had when their wedding was in less than eight days.

"I love him to death, but between him and my brother…" a fond sigh. "At least Klaud is here. She's great at keeping everyone in line. Without her, the wedding would be a mash-up of tea-drinking and stiff-collared dresses." Her voice lowered and got closer to the phone, as though Lenalee was trying to keep anyone from overhearing. "Personally, I'm looking forward to the honeymoon. Lavi's found us a place by the beach so we can jet-ski, and then at night he's going to take me out on the water for some fooling around. I mean, he's so good in bed it's just-"

"Lenalee! Please, you're like my sister, I don't need to-"

The laughter over the phone stopped his pleas. "Ok, sorry Allen! I'll save the sordid details for Kanda."

Allen rolled his eyes on instinct. "You mean Bakanda?"

Ignoring the derision in his tone, she continued, "Yeah, he got back from Japan just fine… actually, he's driving too, and he should be passing through your area sometime this afternoon! I just talked to him and he said he's making good time."

 _Figures_. Allen grunted in response, eying his unresponsive bike. "I guess I'll see you in a few days."

"Of course! Keep me updated. I worry about you and Tim on the highway, especially with that bike of yours."

Allen spluttered, "What's wrong with my bike?!"

"Er, well, it's kind of old, you know. I mean, you're what, a thousand miles away? Are you sure it can handle that long of a trip?"

Actually, it was more like two thousand, but no need to sweat the small stuff. "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

"Uh huh," Lenalee said, obviously disbelieving.

The bike only had to make it from Maine to the Florida Keys (Lavi had chosen the destination for the ceremony because of an obsession with Humphrey Bogart, and for some weird reason, Lenalee hadn't objected). Allen had the route already planned and would make it not only in time for the wedding, but the rehearsal dinner and the bachelor party (And, no, Allen wasn't best man – Komui had been given the honor… something about winning over the in-laws? Allen couldn't remember all the details, just the intense groveling Lavi had done when he'd broken the news).

Lenalee continued, "Well, see you. Oh, and maybe text Kanda before you leave home – you still have his number, right? Maybe you guys could get dinner or something. Hey, you could even travel together!"

 _Sure. When they're selling snow cones in Hell._ "Yeah, I doubt he'd want to do that."

"…You might have a point. But just- oh shit, I've got to go – Bookman and Klaud are arguing over the flower arrangements. Love you!"

Allen sweat-dropped at his disconnected phone. Had Lenalee just… swore?

Maybe the wedding-day stress was getting to her more than he'd thought.

A bark from Timpcanpy brought his master back to the task at hand: getting his bike started.

And, staring at the leather seats, a maniacal grin crept onto Allen's face – he'd get that thing running even if it meant spending the rest of the day at the mechanic's shop; There was no way in hell Kanda was beating him to that wedding.

XXXXX

Kanda crossed the Canada-America border a little after nine in the morning. Driving his raven sedan, the long-haired Japanese man soon entered the New England forests, not finding them different from the woods outside of Montreal. He'd managed to leave early, having just spent a few days recovering from the jet-lag of his flight from Japan.

Due to the early start, Kanda Yuu found himself in Albany, New York four hours later. Between the snacks he'd brought from home and the hotel reservations he'd made in advance, Kanda was feeling relaxed at how easy the first day of traveling had gone. Granted, making it through the New England territories had taken some strategizing, thanks to the traffic from the eastern cities, but so far, things had been quiet.

With his music and some books-on-tape, Kanda didn't plan on making many stops. Not to say he had a problem staying awake, but he knew from experience that long drives got tedious quickly. There was no reason to make the remaining 21 hours of American countryside any longer than it had to be.

Why he had to drive so far in the first place was beyond Kanda. Just because that stupid Usagi didn't want to hold the wedding in Boston. No, in his typical fashion, Lavi had insisted on making it difficult for everyone involved, holding the ceremony almost two thousand miles away. Kanda hadn't been going to go at all when he heard about that.

But… it was Lenalee, and therefore, impossible to say no.

What she saw in that stupid rabbit, the Japanese man could only guess.

With the help of said music and a week of preparation, Kanda was finally starting to relax. Or, at least, as much as Kanda Yuu could ever relax about something he'd been forced into doing.

That relaxed state quickly vanished when the Bluetooth in his car picked up a call.

The word 'Moyashi' quickly flashed over his car's phone. Thanks to an automatic Bluetooth setting Kanda hadn't had a chance to change, the car answered for him on the second ring.

"What," he snapped, busy merging with the 87 loop around Albany.

"Hello to you too, Bakanda," the Moyashi snapped, all but used to the greeting at this point. "Hey, are you still in Albany?"

"No," Kanda growled, which was technically true. He was just entering the outskirts of Albany, after all – not the same as being there.

"I know you're lying. Lenalee put a tracker on our phones, remember, in case we had problems on the road? She told me you crossed the Mohawk River ten minutes ago."

"Why the fuck do you care where I am? Worry about yourself on the damned road."

"I am! That's why I'm calling." An irritated sigh crackled over the car speakers, as if Allen were trying to reign-in his anger. "I need… ugh. Damn it, I…"

What followed were words spoken too quietly for Kanda to hear.

"Speak the fuck up, Moyashi," he snapped after navigating a particularly aggressive 18-wheeler.

"Shut it, Kanda! I'm… I need. Your help."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"My bike broke down," he growled back. "I'm stuck in Albany. I need you to come get me."

Kanda didn't bother trying to suppress his smirk. He could just imagine how much that statement burned coming out.

"Take it to a mechanic."

"Already did. He said it's going to be five days before they can get the right part in to fix it."

"Take a bus."

"You know it's not going to get there in time! And before you say it, the flights are still booked – I already checked."

"Sucks for you."

"And you too," Allen quipped in that malevolent sweet voice that suggested he was getting the upper-hand in this debate. "How are you going to explain to Lenalee how you showed up at her wedding without one of her best friends? A friend you left _stranded_ in New York?"

"You were stranded when I got here," he snapped again.

"You sure that's how she's going to see it?"

Kanda couldn't help thinking the two of them were like kids threatening to tattle to their mom. Strangely, that thought didn't make him any less concerned over testing Lenalee's patience. Especially when she was already stretching her sanity pretty thin on the wedding planning.

Yet, Kanda wasn't about to give in that easily.

"You have to spend time with Lavi."

"Uh…"

"Keep the Usagi the fuck out of my hair," He growled, irritation with the whole event returning.

The last thing Kanda wanted – and knew without out a doubt would end up happening – was the stupid rabbit nagging him about hooking up with the bridesmaids. If Allen were around, however, he could field some of Lavi's anxious energy. Or so Kanda hoped.

Between Lavi's riling and Tiedoll going on and on about Kanda (still single) settling down and getting married… there would be a lot of red at that wedding. And he didn't just mean because of the Chinese décor.

"Sure. Fine," Allen agreed readily. "I'm sending you the address for the diner I'm at. See you."

With that, he hung-up.

XXXXX

Kanda shot the Moyashi a quick text as he exited the interstate. After all, if Allen were waiting at a diner, there was no telling how long Kanda would end up waiting should the Brit get too involved in his meal. The more notice he gave, the less time he'd have to spend in this damned town.

And, sure enough, when Kanda's black sedan pulled up at the curb outside the sixties-style tin-sided restaurant, the white-haired man was already waiting outside.

Allen stood on the curb with a dark duffel bag at his feet. Wearing a pair of cotton cargo pants with a thin muscle shirt that managed to show-case the toned arms he'd developed. Also, like his increased strength, displaying the mottled left-hand and red-striped tattoos on his arm. Allen had even pulled his ivory hair into a low pony-tail, leaving only a few strands around his face, not bothering to hide the scar over his left eye like he'd done when they were kids.

He looked… surprisingly good for someone bumming a free ride.

Kanda had just rolled his window down, about to tell the Moyashi to put his stuff in the back, when he spotted a large breathing carpet on the curb.

"Hell no."

Allen, whose face had been shadowed by the sun at his back, stepped closer to the car. "What's wrong?"

Kanda's sapphire eyes turned accusingly to the panting _thing_ at the sidewalk. "That is not getting in my car."

"What? But, Kanda, he's… He's Tim! I can't leave him," The white-haired pleaded, hands ruffling the golden retriever's furry head.

"That thing sheds," Kanda growled. Not that he needed to explain himself. "It's my car for fuck's sake, and _that_ isn't going."

Instead of getting enraged like the Japanese man predicted, Allen crouched beside his dog on the cement walkway. Holding the dog's boxy head with one hand, he drew the panting muzzle to his own cheek.

"But… Kanda... how can you turn this face down?" Allen pouted, trying to act like seventy pounds of hairy, slobbery dog could be diminished to a pair of sweet chocolate eyes. Eyes that were more interested in the bird overhead than his master's attempts at bumming a ride.

Kanda started rolling up the window.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Allen pleaded, crawling over to the car, hands grabbing the top of the window glass. Kanda, however, was perfectly willing to crush those fingers, only stopping when Allen continued, "I'll clean the car! If he sheds, I'll pay to get it cleaned."

Kanda scowled. "Leave him in a kennel."

Moyashi rolled his eyes. "Please. Like you do that with Golem."

"Cats don't need to be boarded anywhere," Kanda countered, almost offended Allen could compare Golem to… whatever that was on the sidewalk.

Then, Allen tried to copy Tim's impression of puppy eyes. Grey pupils widening, looking up at Kanda from the windowsill like a begging child. "Come on, Bakanda. Tim's never been by himself. He always goes with me. He gets anxiety attacks. I can't leave him alone in a kennel."

Even if the pleading and begging was so stupid it was almost laughable, it didn't hurt Kanda's ego any.

"He makes a mess," The Japanese man growled, tilted eyes narrowing, "And you're dead."

Allen scoffed, dropping his pleading façade now that he was home-free. "Lighten up. The journey is half the fun."

"I'm not taking a journey with shitty dog puke in my thirty-thousand dollar car, Moyashi," Kanda snapped.

"It's Allen, Bakanda," the other man returned.

The driver watched the pale adult pull a coral beach-towel from his duffle. After opening Kanda's back door, he threw the blanket over the back leather seats. Then, he gave Timcanpy an 'up' command, the dog obediently hopping inside, ruby leash still clamped in its mouth.

"Thanks Kanda," Allen said from the shot-gun seat, mood improved. "This is a pretty nice car. You just buy it?"

"Yes. If you like it that much, tell that dog to quit slobbering," Kanda growled as they puttered down the interstate.

"I can't. He's nervous – happens all the time. Maybe roll the window down and he'll feel better."

Kanda shot him a quick glare before refocusing his eyes on the road. "No."

"Why?"

"It gives me a headache."

"Surely you can suffer a small headache for the dog. Or, you know, your leather seats."

"I don't have to suffer anything," Kanda growled. "He's your damned dog."

A bark from the back row startled Kanda so bad he nearly jerked the car into the neighboring lane. "What the fuck?"

"Tim, it's Ok," Allen soothed, hand reaching back. "Kanda's just being his crabby self. No need to get angry."

"Keep that dog in line or you can walk to Florida."

"Ok, Ok, sheesh, I'll be quiet," Allen appeased, as if Kanda had been the one in the wrong. "So, time for some music?"

"Forget the music. Tell me if this is the right exit."

"What do you mean? It says the exit number right on your fancy GPS. Can't you read?"

"I'd read it just fine if you hadn't been so busy distracting me," Kanda snapped. "Answer the damned question."

"It says to… Wait, why are you exiting here?" Allen asked, pale face narrowed in confusion.

"Because," Kanda growled, gripping the steering wheel so tight it was a wonder it was still intact.

"Then take the 84 to Scranton instead. It's more direct than the 90 to the 88 or whatever the hell you're talking about."

"The GPS is taking us on the route I planned three days ago. Leave it alone."

"Hey, I've driven this before, you haven't. Might be time to benefit from my vast years of experience."

The dark-haired man scowled, still focused on the signs to take the right exits. "Being Cross' caddy does not count."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Allen's grimace. "Fine. Get lost. See if I care."

"We are not getting lost. It's New England for God's sake. There are too many interstates to just 'get lost'."

"Um, actually, New York isn't part of New England. And we left that like an hour ago."

_Oh, for the love of…_

"Out," Kanda snapped, jerking the car into a shell station exit. Time to kick both the Moyashi and his slobbery carpet out of the car. Let them walk to Florida. Lenalee be damned.

"Wait, Kanda! Ok, Ok, you can decide the route!" Then, not-so-quietly, Allen added, "Even if it's a stupid one."

"Stupid is driving a bike that doesn't work across country, baka. Shut the fuck up."

"My bike works just fine!" Catching Kanda's scoff, he amended, "Ok, well, it did, but that wasn't my fault. It just needs some extra care. It's ten years old, so I guess it's expected."

Fifteen minutes later had the dark sedan pulling back off interstate 90 and onto the 88 southwest. Loaded with a panting retriever in the back, a peppy Brit in the front, and a Japanese driver who was starting to think he'd just been played as Tim slobbered over his back windows.

It was going to be a long, long, 21 hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys have any thoughts in your reading process - whether you're just starting this fic now that it's completed or rereading - I'd love to hear them in the comments, at any point in the story.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Be Wary of Hitchhikers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I was supposed to wait a few days but I kind of want to get the story out there. So here you go!

"Hands in the air where I can see 'em."

Allen had quit being surprised, like, twenty minutes ago. And, trying not to look too bored, did as directed by the gun-toting clowns.

Had he just said 'gun-toting clowns'? Yes, he had.

Allen, standing outside the black sedan with Kanda, could feel the Japanese man's killing aura. It should be noted that the killing thoughts weren't directed at their highway robbers. Well, it was, but a good portion of it was reserved for Allen and Allen alone.

This time, grudgingly and only internally, the white-haired man could admit that certain actions he'd taken in the last hour could be construed as possibly having contributed to the events. Could be. Maybe.

No, scratch that. This was definitely his fault.

Not that he would ever admit it to Kanda.

It all started when they'd reached Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Thanks to Kanda's daredevil-break-every-speed-limit-posted driving skills, they made the five hour drive from Albany to Harrisburg in four.

Needless to say, by the time they got there, Timcanpy had been crossing his legs for over an hour and Allen was so hungry he was about to start chowing down on the leather upholstery.

Not to mention that Kanda had completely bypassed Hershey, Pennsylvania.

It was where they made chocolates, for Pete's sake. Who didn't want to stop for that?

Bakanda, that's who.

Anyway, that was how the two adults and one golden retriever found themselves in a Sonic not far off the interstate in Harrisburg.

It was nice, a bit busy at 5 in the afternoon, but Kanda had (once again) managed to defy the rules of the road and snagged a parking spot upfront. Which was convenient, because Allen could walk Tim in the small patch of grass while Kanda got their orders. Well, actually, got his order, because Allen's was too much to carry, so the white adult ended up going back after securing Tim around their outdoor table.

The three of them were in a line of tables in the grassy area beside the interstate, Allen having already scarfed down five and a half hamburgers, when he finally looked up from his food.

Up until that point, the man had been so intent on his food that he'd ignored Kanda's complaints about his eating habits and the watchful eyes of everyone around them. But now that he had enough calories to function, he was able to get a good look at the natives.

There were some teen and adult (and some middle-aged) women that were openly ogling Kanda as he managed to eat his hamburger delicately. Which, compared to everyone (and especially Allen), was rather remarkable – Kanda was taking bites like he was barely savoring the flavor, too intent on the feeling of the wind in his long pony tail and graceful neck, dark stormy eyes gazing off into the distance. Posture straight, fitted jacket emphasizing those muscled forearms that could terrorize babies and bend metal.

…Or so Allen figured.

No, Allen wasn't look at the openly-staring women (and a few men) at the Harrisburg Sonic off the I-81. Nor was it the few people waving at Timcanpy, sitting at Allen's side while the white-haired fed him random bits of burger and fries. Or the rare few natives that were staring at Allen's red scar, red arm tattoos, and pony-tailed white hair.

No, it was the clowns.

At first, Allen thought he'd just gone too long without eating. Like, hallucinating because of low blood sugar, or something. Which was totally a thing.

"What the hell?" Kanda wondered, echoing the same thoughts rattling through Allen's brain.

The younger man's grey eyes took in the various groups of maybe-hallucinated clowns. Sometimes he spotted just one or two, other times, clowns moving in a pack of ten or more. A group of nine waited at a cross-walk down the street. Two were in line at the sonic. Five packed into a clown-car in the drive-thru. One group of several walked down the sidewalks, laughing like all clowns did.

Some of them were big, some small, some fat, some thin. Some dressed in lime-green suits and others cherry-red.

No one else seemed to be openly-staring, making Allen wonder if it was just a Harrisburg thing. Maybe there was a large population of clowns that lived there. Or people liked to dress up on… days that weren't Halloween.

"Aren't you so cute?"

Allen's attention shifted from a particularly rotund clown in a red suit and balding head to the sweet female voice at his left.

A woman in jeans and a cotton blouse was making baby-faces at Timcanpy. The dog, enjoying the attention, began wagging his tail so hard he created his own wind, panting happily for the friendly stranger.

"Is he yours?" the thirty-something asked, blue eyes meeting Allen's in a smile.

"Yeah," The adult smiled back. "His name's Timcanpy. You can pet him if you want."

The woman did so, with vigor, ruffling Tim's ears and long fur. The dog was at first a little hesitant to abandon the food source (on other words, Allen), but his short attention span won out, getting up from his seated position to approach the nice woman.

"Are you folks here for the Clown Convention?" She asked off-hand.

Um, what? "Clown Convention?" Allen said, curious.

As one of the few women in the area who were more interested in the dog than either of the hot young men, she didn't take her eyes from Tim's brown ones. "Oh yes," she continued in the baby voice for the dog. "The Annual Clown Convention down at the hotel. It's their 37th, I think."

Allen was struck by two things she'd said: one, that there was an annual clown convention, and two, that she thought he and Kanda were part of it.

"What's that?" The white-haired Brit asked in spite of himself.

"It's a convention that lasts a few days. I think the clowns learn from teachers on techniques and things for their acts." Then, producing some fries from her Sonic bag, she gave Allen a questioning glance. "May I?"

"Sure," He smiled.

"What makes you think we're here for that," Kanda spoke for the first time, sounding not-at-all pleased by this idea.

Tim practically swallowed the woman's proffered fries whole. No chewing seen. The woman, amused, finally looked at the Japanese hottie. "Oh, not you, the dog. He's just so fwendly," she added to Tim in a baby voice.

A Clown Convention. That was… actually kind of cool. Back when Allen had traveled with Mana, there had been no Clown conventions. It was pretty much every laugher for themselves in those days. It sounded… well, exciting.

Would Mana have gone to one? Allen would like to think he would have. Maybe not every year, but it sounded too cool not to check out at least once.

The native woman, apparently having had her fill of doggie time, gave Tim one last fry. "He's a great dog. Thank you!" she smiled, waving at the dog before departing in her SUV.

"You going to eat those?" A gruff voice asked.

Allen didn't realize he'd still been staring at the empty parking space until Kanda spoke. For some reason, he'd been thinking about that large clown from before. He looked so much like…

"Sure," The young adult turned back to the food, scarfing up the rest of his burgers.

Kanda, apparently having noticed Allen's pensive mood, didn't bother him for the rest of the meal.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone's hunger was sated, Timcanpy was ready for a nap after his impromptu play-time, and Kanda was antsy to hit the road. The latter said something about pulling another four hours to make it to their hotel in Petersburg, VA (really, the drive was more like five hours, but with the way Kanda drove, Allen had no doubt they would make it).

"Why don't I drive," Allen tried, putting Tim back into the back of the sleek vehicle.

"No," Kanda snapped, bypassing Allen with hardly a glance.

"Consider it paying you back for the trip. You could probably use a break."

"I'm not trusting you with my car, Moyashi." The Japanese man punctuated the statement by closing the driver door.

Well then.

"I'll let you navigate," Allen said, opening the door so Kanda could hear him.

Was he trying too hard? Yes. Did he want to get to the hotel alive tonight? Also a yes.

"I'm already doing that," Kanda snapped.

Allen met his sapphire eyes. "Come on, Bakanda. I'll go wherever you tell me. And I've been driving for, like, eight years already. Without any accidents."

Kanda scoffed. "You've only had your license for five."

"Cross had unusual guardianship methods," Allen said bitterly, trying to hide his shiver at the memories.

"Just shut up and get in the car," Kanda, drive to get back on the road winning over interest in the conversation, snatched the door away and slammed it in Allen's face.

Like the mature adult he was, Allen stuck his tongue out at the door. Kanda, in turn, flipped him off through the tinted window.

Whatever. Allen could always say 'I told you so' when they were standing on the side of the road, looking at his mangled vehicle.

The black sedan pulled back on the interstate within minutes. Seven minutes after that, they'd crossed Susquehanna River and were almost past the Harrisburg City limits.

That was when they saw the hitchhikers.

Allen knew the perils of stopping for hitchhikers. Knew from various news agencies and true-crime stories that it was never a good idea. Despite Cross' issues, Allen's former Guardian had never once picked up a freeloader on a trip (true that was because Cross was a cheap bum, not thanks to any divine wisdom, but whatever).

Yet, the whole time they'd been driving after leaving that Sonic, in the quiet that filled the airspace around Kanda, Allen's brain had been occupied with memories of times in the circus. Brought on by the clowns and the convention and… well, as always, it came back to Mana.

And that came back to the clowns stranded on the side of the road. Besides, they weren't technically hitchhikers, just people needed to bum a ride because their car had broken down. Or so it looked to Allen.

"Kanda, go back."

"We are not getting you more burgers to eat in my car," He growled dangerously.

"Not that, Bakanda, the clowns."

"What about the fucking clowns," he said, less a question and more of a demand.

"The hitchhikers back there."

Apparently knowing where Allen was going with this, Kanda snapped, "Hell no."

Allen glared at the chiseled face to his left. "If it were Tiedoll stranded on the side of the road, would you want someone to give him a lift?" The adult said, trying to reason with Kanda's inner familial loyalties.

"Hell no," he answered without hesitation.

While he hadn't even bothered to take his eyes off the road, Allen didn't miss that small glimmer of satisfaction in Kanda's eyes. Apparently having found his inner sadist and enjoying it.

The pale Brit palmed his face in desperation. Lenalee always got Kanda to do shit. Why couldn't he? Kanda's currency wasn't food. It wasn't cute dogs. So… what?

Could it be S and M? Because that man certainly had a sadistic streak.

Still… Masochism was a little…

"But," Kanda spoke, snapping Allen from his dwindling train of thought, "If it were Mana, I would stop."

…

…

Wait, what?

Allen watched, dumbfounded, as Kanda took the nearest exit. Going beneath the underpass, he turned going Northeast on the 81. Apparently having marked the exit numbers, they traveled two miles before switching and going Southbound.

They had just started pulling back up on the clowns when Allen regained his ability to speak.

"But… you didn't know Mana."

Kanda _tch_ ed, putting the emergency blinkers on for the sedan as they slowed to a stop twenty feet back. Sapphire eyes met Allen's over the console, pulled down in the Japanese man's usual frown. "Of course not. In return for this little detour, you're providing gas money for the whole trip."

Allen went from touched to offended in the time Tim could chomp down french-fries. "What? Kanda, this is human decency. You're not charging me for that!"

"It was your idea, Moyashi," the darker man growled, eyes narrowing dangerously. "Agree to it our I'm pulling back into traffic."

For the third time that day, Allen wished his bike had never broken down.

Swallowing the insults, he spat out, "Fine." Then, the pale adult jumped from the car and went to go talk with the three clowns.

Two of the clowns – a large one in a red suit and a shorter one in a lime one – had the hood of their burgundy sedan open, the older with his thumb out for a lift while the shorter leaned over the hood. The third was sitting behind the wheel of the car, apparently trying to get it to start.

Allen, being the friendly adult he was, braved the highway winds, ivory strands slapping his cheeks, to introduce himself.

And, as one would guess, it was shortly after introductions had been made that the red tubby clown – Bert – pulled a gun.

"Hands in the air where I can see 'em."

Allen, trying not to sigh, did as the grey-haired, balding clown suggested, removing his mismatched hands from his pockets, lifting them to his shoulders.

Oliver was the shorter clown at the hood of the car. Wearing lime-green suit, he was just as make-up covered as his compatriot, both of their features nearly unrecognizable for those not used to looking at clown make-up (Since Allen was, he wasn't too concerned, knowing he could give an accurate description to the police when this was over). Oliver, knowing one of the drivers was apprehended, strolled over to the sedan.

Allen's back was to the car, so he had no real way of warning Kanda what was up. Which was… unfortunate, to say the least.

Most people would have expected some road-side assistance when being robbed at gun-point, but Bert and Oliver were evidently practiced at this: The older grey-haired kept the gun close to his body so it wasn't easily visible from the roadside. Since cars were whizzing past them at seventy miles and hour, chances were slim to none people would see anything besides some travelers helping the others with car trouble.

Moments later, Bert had backed Allen up to the black sedan, the handle of the door digging into his lower back. Kanda, having been removed from his prized vehicle at gun-point, was already standing there, back against the adjacent door.

Kanda looked even more annoyed than usual, glaring daggers at Allen's skull. The young adult was far too concerned with his valuable snacks to worry, even if he could grudgingly admit this was his fault. And Kanda definitely had a reason to be mad.

But still. They were in this together, weren't they? No reason to start playing the blame-game now.

Once the two travelers were safely lined up beside their vehicle, the third, medium-sized clown dressed in royal-blue pants and a white shirt with suspenders, popped the trunk of Kanda's car. The third man used the keys Kanda held to do so – neither of the clowns dared to get into the cab with Timcanpy, who was barking like hell itself were descending on Earth. Something that, despite the circumstances, made Allen a little proud.

The two waited there, Bert and Oliver holding guns on them, while number three started recounting the plethora of items he found in the trunk. In addition to the wallets pilfered from the two travelers, the highway robbers unearthed Allen's clothing duffle, his emergency snacks (for him and the dog), and Kanda's clothing.

"Oh, what's this?" the blue-looking clown asked in a high-pitched voice.

He'd just deposited their items on the grassy embankment and moved to the shotgun window. Just visible inside, catching the setting sunlight, was the hilt of a sword.

What was a sword doing in the shotgun seat? Well, Kanda had refused to put it in the trunk, forcing Allen to keep it as a shared passenger the whole way down. Ridiculous, yes, but strangely not that uncomfortable (It was better than sitting in the back with Tim, which Kanda had wanted to begin with, so he didn't have room to complain).

Allen, standing beside Kanda, felt the Japanese man go from pissed to murderous.

Someone was going to die. And for once, it wasn't going to be him.

"Leave it, George," Bert commanded in a grunt, obviously getting tired of standing in the sunlight wearing the puffy clown outfit. "We got their cash. Let's go."

"A sword! My boy's been wantin' one for ages…"

"I don't want to deal with no dog," Bert whined. "Leave it."

"It's a golden retriever. What's it going to do, nuzzle me to death? Please."

Ah, Tim. Forever underestimated.

When the blue clown, George, tried to get into the shotgun seat, the door was locked. Forcing him to go around to the driver's side of the vehicle to get the weapon.

And that was when things got out of hand.

While the clown was reaching across the driver's seat and console for the sword, Timcanpy lunged to the front seat, teeth bared, letting out a bark so deep and vicious it even startled Allen. Not to mention the two clowns pointing guns in their faces.

Allen went for Bert, using the distraction to his advantage. The clown hadn't even been seriously gripping the weapon anyway, making it easy to dislodge it from the man's hand. Grabbing the gun-toting wrist, Allen brought the elbow down against his knee, practically cracking the bone. A hit with is palm beneath the clown's ribs and a second to his face left Bert lying on the ground, moaning.

By the time the white-haired adult looked away from the red clown, Kanda had Oliver similarly dispatched, smirking down at the disarmed clown who looked in even more pain than Bert. Allen didn't feel any sympathy for the man, but he did wince at the physical embodiment of Kanda's rage.

Allen turned around to look for George, expecting another attack, only…

"Where's the car?"

Kanda's head whipped around so fast Allen almost got smacked with his pony-tail. "Fucking…"

"AAAARGH!" A scream came from the left.

Both adults turned just in time to see the front bumper of Kanda's car disappear over the shoulder of the road. A clown trapped in the front seat and a barking dog in the back.

Allen, without thinking, charged down the steep grassy hill, calling his dog's name. Kanda, concerned for an entirely different reason, gave chase as well, sneakers kicking up the soft dirt and dust into the highway winds.

By the time they got to the bottom of the forty-five degree embankment, the sedan's eleven-mile-an-hour roll down hill had been stopped by a large tree, the car's nose pointed towards the top of the roadway. Kanda went for the passenger side of the car to apprehend the would-be sword thief, while Allen ran to the back for his loyal companion.

Timcanpy leapt from the car, tail wagging upon seeing Allen.

Perfect - the dog was alive. Not that he'd expected anything else, but... Tim was in one piece. He wasn't bleeding, he wasn't whining. If anything, he was too enthusiastic, tail wagging so hard Allen was pretty sure his thigh would be bruised as the dog ran in an excited circle around his master.

Not that Allen cared. The clown robbers were apprehended and his dog was safe. Everything was good.

"Moyashi," Kanda snapped from the other side of the car. Allen, busy nuzzling Tim's face, met the glaring sapphire eyes over the top of the car. "Get the rope from the trunk."

"Why do you have rope in the trunk?" Allen asked.

"Just get it."

Giving his dog one last nuzzle to the forehead, the young adult did as requested, fighting through the knee-high grass and bushes to the back of the sedan.

All thoughts of rope flew from his brain.

Kanda was going to kill him.

The car hadn't stopped because it'd reached the bottom of the embankment. No, it'd stopped thanks to the boulder-sized tree planted at the edge of the shrubs. A fat three that had been there god knew how long, placed by some divine creatures centuries ago just to dent Kanda's car and screw with Allen's life.

"What's the fucking hold-up?" The Japanese man snapped.

"Um, nothing," Allen assured, in what he hoped was a normal tone of voice.

The longer he could keep Kanda in the dark, the longer he'd get to live.

The black sedan's trunk, rim, and bumper were pressed in almost seven inches, creating an even crescent shape that would be admirable on anything else but Kanda's vehicle. Dented bad enough that Allen was pretty sure the trunk latch was ruined.

Thankfully the trunk opened, sparing the pain any crow-bar damage on top of everything else. Allen found the rope and tossed it over the hood to Kanda, avoiding the man's gaze as he did so. Kanda didn't notice, too enthused at the idea of hog-tying a clown.

Allen did his best to close the trunk. The thing would snap down, thank god, but it didn't want to stay there.

"Go get the others," Kanda said, busy trussing up their thief.

Ah, good. A reason to leave.

Clipping a leash on Timcanpy, Allen practically sprinted away, feet sliding on the steep grassy embankment. He almost stumbled a few times in the soft Eastern dirt.

Wind grabbed at his clothes when they reached the roadside. Allen, enjoying what would probably be his last few borderline-peaceful moments on a trip that had been doomed from the start, took in the traffic passing at seventy miles an hour. Noticed the clear sky and the setting sun at his back.

So caught up in the view that it took a few moments to realize what was missing.

Their duffel bags of clothes. The robbing clowns. The clown car. They were all gone.

The clowns had made their escape. With their stuff.

What the hell.

Allen might as well just step into moving traffic right now. At least then Tim wouldn't have to watch him get impaled by Mugen.

Tim, oblivious to their imminent demise, continued wagging his tail as he enjoyed sniffing the ground for rodents. Happy to be alive.

Allen wasn't even paying attention. Because Kanda had just joined them on the roadside.

Sapphire eyes took in the empty scene. Processing the facts.

Kanda looked Allen right in the eyes. The latter trying to keep a stoic face in hopes it would make him less of a target.

"Forget gas money. You're fucking dead," he declared, gripping an unsheathed Mugen in his large hand.

"Tim, sick 'em!" Allen tried in a last-ditch effort at life.

Timcanpy, instead of going into the attack-mode he'd used on the clowns, simply wandered over to Kanda with his tail wagging.

_Thanks Tim._

Looking at the smirking glimmer in Kanda's eyes, Allen couldn't help thinking that maybe Cross had the right idea - being a good Samaritan was seriously overrated.

* * *

**Key Largo: 17 hours**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, you guys probably think I'm blowing smoke out my ass with this one, but there is really an Annual Clown Convention held in Harrisburg, PA (and yes, this year is their 37th). I stumbled across it when I was trying to find a wrench to throw into the trip. The parallel was just too coincidental to not feature in the story, so I came up with this chap. Originally, there was supposed to be some backstory on Allen and Kanda's relationship so far, but... this was already long enough.
> 
> Sometimes I write funny stuff and it reads like I had too many margaritas with dinner. So, please let me know what you guys think.
> 
> P.S. I know as much about fighting as I do dimensions for the moon. If you see any errors, feel free to tell me.


	3. Only Walk Pets in Designated Areas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister has pointed out to me that some people could mistake this as being a purely crack fic. And... Ok, most of it is comedy, but believe me there's a reason for the Allen/Kanda pairing - you'll understand at the end.
> 
> Thank you all for the kudos and comments! And while most of this is comedy, FYI, this chapter is a little more serious. Fun resumes next chap.

Allen glanced to his left. Kanda, his jaw and bangs illuminated by the dashboard lighting, was barely moving, midnight eyes pinned to the roadway like he could simply will their stuff back into existence. That, or he was imagining the various ways he'd kill Allen in his sleep. Both equally likely, given the samurai's rage.

Allen had planned on apologizing. But, when Kanda had seen the dent in the back bumper…

Let's just say the pale, scarred adult would be paying for more than gas money on the trip.

By the time they got to Petersburg, Virginia that night, it was almost eleven o'clock. Despite Kanda's break-neck driving and minimal traffic, it had taken them almost six hours to get there.

They were some of the most miserable six hours of Allen's life.

Between nearly dying right there on the roadside, suffering through the phone calls to the bank (stolen credit cards having to be canceled and all that), and the hour-long interrogation from the police after the robbery, and then finding an alternative route to avoid Washington, D.C. traffic, Allen was exhausted.

At some point, he'd gotten so tired and irritable that Kanda's death-glares had quit bothering him. The two had moved from fighting about the police to snapping about directions to absolute silence.

Sure, the robbery and subsequent dent in the car were technically his fault. After all, it was the white-haired adult who'd insisted they stop.

But how was he supposed to know the stranded clowns were actually highway robbers? Or that Timcanpy and one of said robbers would get locked in Kanda's sedan? And that said sedan would end up crashing into a tree? Because arguably the trunk could still close – nothing a little rope and bungee cord wouldn't fix.

Besides, all their stuff was replaceable. Their credit cards had been canceled, and Kanda had a spare driver's license in his glove box. No harm done, really.

Of course, their wedding presents had been some of the things hijacked, and Kanda was now forcing him to pay for everything – the stolen clothes, the dented car, and the gas money… but Allen was doing his best not to think about that right then.

And then there had been Timcanpy, who was somehow to blame for landing his car into a ditch.

Tim was an innocent dog, with sweet brown eyes. Hell, he actually liked Kanda, for some strange reason. How was he to blame?

For Allen, the exhaustion, hunger, and overall irritation made blaming his dog the final straw. Plunging the car into an endless silence, sans music or any book-on-tape, nothing but Timcanpy's panting and the road beneath the tires to fill the car.

Darkness had fallen hours ago, only the reflectors on the road and the occasional driver's headlights illuminating the tree-shrouded landscape. Allen could admit – if silently – that he was glad Kanda had already made a reservation in a hotel; He was too tired and hungry to hunt around for a place to stay.

The darkness and silence was interrupted as the pulled into Petersburg, exiting the interstate and onto the old streets. The lamps overhead and neon signs should have made it easier to see, but instead, Allen found his eyes almost blinded by the sudden brightness. Kanda, thankfully, didn't have a problem navigating the luminous light to find their hotel.

Their sedan pulled under the parking eave outside a Best Western, lights from the lobby to their right and the recess lighting above trickling into the dark car. Tim, seeing them stop, sat up in the back seat, alert for any bathroom breaks or food offerings, as was customary for their stops in the past.

Kanda unbuckled his seat to head inside the hotel, but Allen stopped him with, "Just stay here. What's the name?"

"It's under mine," He snapped.

Allen, grabbing his canvas jacket, hopped out of the car and into the cool, humid air of Virginia.

Best to keep Kanda away from populated areas. Didn't need him pissing anyone else off.

The receptionist was a petite woman with brunette hair and a crooked smile, teeth not having had any orthodontics when she was little.

"Hello, sir," She greeted, dark eyes meeting his. "Checking in?"

"Yes," Allen smiled automatically, ingrained expression masking some of his exhaustion. "Kanda Yuu."

"Yes… one room, two beds, right? That's 83.95."

The young adult smiled in agreement, automatically reaching into his baggy pockets for his wallet.

Only to remember he'd been robbed five hours ago. Cash included.

Shit.

No, no, there was no need to panic. Because… well, if they couldn't get a room, the alternative meant sleeping in the car with Kanda. And Timcanpy. Which was not only out of the question, it would take an army of zombies and an apocalypse to make it happen.

Grinning sheepishly at the girl, Allen tucked some escaping ivory strands behind his ear before saying, "My friend promised to pay for the room, but he didn't give me the cash for it. Can he call and give you a credit card?"

"Um, I think so," She answered, looking at her screen. Allen's smile, as always, had a pleasant effect on people, making them more willing to help him whether they wanted to or not. "Do you need the hotel's number?"

"Sure, that'd be great," Allen agreed, finding his own cellphone and dialing a number he'd memorized in high school.

While the woman wrote the hotel phone number down, Allen listened to the customary two rings before a familiar cheery voice sounded over the line.

"If it isn't the Bean Sprout! How's the trip comin'?" Lavi asked, far too much cheer in his voice for such a 'trip'.

Which had to mean…

"Lenalee told you, didn't she."

Why did he even have to ask? They were engaged, for Pete's sake. Lavi knew her bra size, when she'd gotten scared by a deer as a child, and definitely that Kanda and Allen were driving down to Florida. In one car. Together.

"What's with that tone? Take it the trip isn't going as planned?" Lavi continued, tone still too cheery.

"I need your help," Allen said, trying to change the subject, already done with anything to do with Kanda at that point. "We're at a hotel but I don't have my credit card. Can you give them yours? I'll pay you back when we get there."

"Eh, no problem, little buddy! Just, uh, what happened?"

Ah. To lie, or not to lie?

It took him less than a second to decide. No reason to give Lavi any more fuel than he already had.

"We were robbed. By five guys. Beefy guys, taller than Kanda by, like, a foot. It was nasty, man. We barely made it out alive."

Did he feel guilty for lying? Yes. Did he want to keep Lavi off his back? Also a yes.

"Whoa, seriously? Jeez, Allen, that sounds awful. Hey, no prob, man, I'll give them my card. What's the hotel?"

The white-haired adult rattled off the information. "I'll give them a call. Lena wants to talk with you, so we're going to trade phones. Oh, but dude, if you guys get too bored on the ride," Allen rolled his eyes, "Just remember Yuu hasn't gotten laid in like five years. All that pent-up energy's got to be good for somethin', know what I mean?"

"Lavi!"

Easy for him to say – Lavi was down in the Keys enjoying the sunshine with his fiancé. A lot more conducive to fun times and… whatever Lavi had on his mind than being stuck in a car with the biggest prick on the east coast.

"See ya, Bean Sprout! Give Yuu my love."

A brief shuffling, and Lavi's voice was replaced with Lenalee's. "Hi, Allen!" She greeted, just as the hotel phone rang. "Lavi had you on speakerphone, so I heard about the robbery… that's awful. Are you guys alright? Is Tim doing Ok?"

Finally. Someone who actually cared for his plight. "Yeah, we're great, Lenalee." Or doing better, anyway. "Kanda's still a little mad about our missing stuff, but we'll stop at the bank tomorrow for some cash. Everything should straighten itself out soon."

Allen's bank account probably wouldn't, but he'd already agreed to pay to replace their stuff, and Kanda wouldn't let him back out. Not while the fate of arriving at the wedding was still in his hands.

"How's the wedding planning coming?" Allen asked instead, needing something to distract from his growing hunger.

"Um, Ok," Lenalee said hesitantly.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, nothing, it's just… Miranda's been really sick the past few days, and she's not sure she can be my Bridesmaid for the wedding."

"Oh wow, that's terrible. Is she going to be alright?"

"Yeah, she's fine, just pregnancy sickness. Marie's watching her like a hawk. Well, you know what I mean," she amended, referring to Marie's blindness.

"...Are you saying you don't have a bridesmaid?"

"Maybe not," the Chinese woman answered hesitantly. "It depends on if she gets better by Saturday. We don't want to put any more stress on her system and I really don't want her doing anything if she's already unwell."

"Do you have anyone that can replace her?"

"We're deciding that now," Lenalee answered, voice growing even more weary. "I'm thinking of just cancelling the bachelorette party at this point."

"Don't do that! Your friends from college are coming, right? You guys need some time."

"That's what I keep telling her," Lavi chimed in, appearing over the phone like the Rabbit Kanda so aptly name him.

"Yeah, everything'll probably sort itself out," Lenalee agreed, despite not sounding entirely confident in her own words. "You guys just worry about yourselves on the road. And maybe consider getting a gun to carry for safety."

Allen thought about pointing out they'd already been robbed, and things probably wouldn't get any more dangerous, but wisely kept his mouth shut. "We'll think about it."

"Oh, make sure Yuu stays out of trouble. Don't need him going down for murder before the bachelor party," Lavi added in that particularly suggestive tone of his.

"You mean the one Komui's planning?" Allen asked, unable to keep the apprehension from his tone.

"Exactly. I need back-up. You know, like my wingmen. Uh, not to get laid, o' course, just to help smuggle in the booze!"

"Uh huh," Lenalee agreed, doubtful.

"Goodnight, guys," Allen cut in, growing hunger pains winning over the need to talk with his friends. "See you soon."

"See you! Stay safe!" With that, Lenalee hung-up, thankfully before Lavi could say anything else disturbing.

After confirming with the hotel desk attendant that the room had been paid for, retrieving the room keys, Allen went back out into the humid air to get Kanda and Tim.

Only… the car was empty. The dog and his (annoying) traveling companion... were gone.

**XXXXX**

Kanda was still pissed.

It was his car. His goddamned car! The nicest thing he'd bought since graduating college. An accumulation of the money he'd saved (thanks to the scholarship) and the graduation-gift money from Marie and Tiedoll.

He'd been driving it for less than a year and it already had a dent.

This trip was supposed to be about breaking it in. A little time with nothing but his car, his thoughts, and the road.

But, as with everything, the Moyashi had to ruin it. Him and that mangy dog.

Who, despite the towel on the seats and constant attention from his master, still managed to slobber on the leather.

Kanda's dark eyes turned out to the dark road just beyond the hotel, pony-tail swishing against the seat rest. So late at night, everything was quiet. Peaceful and empty. Without the Moyashi's constant presence and the pitch-black night of the drive, it was easier to relax. To fall into a semi-meditative state in an attempt to quit dwelling on his stolen clothes, stolen wallet, and dented car.

Then Timcanpy had to ruin it.

As the dog started whining in the back-seat, Kanda realized it had been a while since the dog had a bathroom break. Not since the Sonic in Harrisburg. The Japanese man didn't know a lot about dogs, but he did know from the drive so far that Allen made sure to take the dog out at every opportunity so Tim could relieve himself.

Kanda wanted to just let the Moyashi deal with it. But… he also didn't want dog pee on the backseat.

_Tch._

Muttering a curse, the Japanese man scrounged around for the ruby leash. Tim, sensing freedom at hand, jumped up onto all fours in the back, tail wagging, little hairs fluttering down in the draft. Chocolate eyes were pinned on Kanda, ready for some fresh air.

Tim practically leapt from the backseat when the door opened. To Kanda's chagrin, the dog did a circle around his legs, forcing the Japanese man to unwind himself before the two continued into the grass around the side of the hotel.

The humid air, fresh with the smell of trees and mulch, filled his nose. Because it was so dark, he didn't know a lot about where they were in Petersburg, but they had to be on the edge of the city. It would explain the older road and forest smells. As well as the quiet – aside from interstate traffic and the crickets in the parking lot, there wasn't anything else.

Tim relieved himself in the grass, Kanda noticing absently the half-filled parking lot and forest opposite the cars.

Timcanpy didn't seem to object to walking some more, but Allen wasn't back yet, and after almost… ten hours stuck in a car, Kanda needed to stretch his legs. He also decided to take the retriever with him since he didn't really trust the shaggy carpet alone in his car anymore after the clown episode.

The two – one cheery, the other scowling – wandered around the small patch of grass before venturing across the parking lot to the small ribbon of grass separating the parked cars from the woods beyond. A lamp overhead illuminated the parking lot and some of the woods beyond, even though the ivy made it hard to see much more than the occasional flash of tree-bark and ground.

The Japanese man spent a few minutes walking before he realized Tim had quit following along.

The dog was stopped maybe two feet behind him, head lowered, a small whine escaping from his throat. His hairy tail was, for once, no longer wagging, practically touching the grass, body still.

"Come on," Kanda snapped, not really having the patience for Tim's mood-swings. Between Allen, the car, the clowns, and the drive… the day had totally sucked. Lip from a mangy, shedding animal was just icing on the veritable cake-day of shit.

"Tim," Kanda growled, meeting the dog's brown eyes.

The retriever just whined, pulling back on the short stretch of leash.

Goddammit. "You damned mutt," Kanda cursed, stepping towards the dog, grabbing it by the collar. Trying to get Tim to move.

It was over their mini-struggle in the grass that Kanda heard a faint rattling noise.

It sounded like those rattles found in mariachi bands. Similar to a slot machine when someone won and coins tumbled down to the till in the bottom.

Only this sound was finer-pitched and smaller.

Kanda felt himself tense up, knowing instinctively that it belonged to a threat. Trying not to move much, hand still around Tim's collar, his sapphire eyes shifted towards the left. Towards the woods, and the source of the small sound.

It took him a second to spot the dark reptile coiled in the grass, in part thanks to his tired, road-weary eyes. So good at camouflage that it's black scales and coiled body looked like nothing more than a piece of thick, dark rope in the dead leaves.

A rattlesnake.

Kanda took a step back when the snake poised to strike.

The triangular head snapped out, like a turtle moving from its shell. It was too fast for Kanda to move and avoid it.

Timcanpy reacted faster.

The golden retriever lunged on the snake, vicious snarl emerging from its throat as it barked, trying to terrorize the reptile with its size.

All it did was give the snake a better target.

"Stop it, Tim!" Kanda shouted, jerking the barking dog away from the snake. Tim, still snarling, followed the leash-pull back, the two falling into a space between parked cars and away from the snake.

The Japanese man didn't stop pulling the dog away until he and Tim were in the middle of the parking lot, the area open and lit enough that Kanda could be sure there weren't any other venomous reptiles within striking distance.

Tim had calmed down, at least, but… he wasn't putting any weight on his front leg. And it looked like it was bleeding.

The dog whimpered as Kanda crouched down beside the retriever, hand grabbing its fluffy leg for examination.

He only had to part some of the long, sandy hair to see what the problem was.

"Tim! Is everything alright? I heard him barking."

Allen, sneakers pounding on the pavement, stopped at their side, concerned grey eyes assessing the dog and Kanda alike. They stopped on Tim's exposed leg, widening in surprise. "Is that…"

"We need an animal hospital," Kanda answered in his deep voice, finally letting Tim's leg go. The dog was still whining, shaking his injured leg as if to dislodge the pain.

"What happened?" Allen asked, pulling out his phone to do the search, eyes still glancing at his dog.

"A rattlesnake," Kanda explained. Allen glared at his phone, illuminated by the white phone screen. "They should have an antivenom at the hospital."

"Yeah," the white-haired agreed, grey eyes snapping over the screen. Then, calling a number, placed the phone to his ear. "I have a dog with a rattlesnake bite. Can we bring him in for treatment?" Allen asked, tone unusually direct and pointed. "Great. See you in fifteen." Then, turning back to Kanda, reached for his golden retriever. "Help me get him into the car, will you?"

Kanda didn't have to be told twice.

Tim, despite the obvious pain in his leg, was able to make it to the car fine. Allen started rattling off directions for the hospital as Kanda pulled back onto the main road. The Brit's voice was overlaid by Tim's whimpering in the back, painful noises driving Kanda's anxiety up even more. Allen, who had to be feeling even worse, managed to keep his voice level, tone direct as he gave precise directions.

"Turn here," He continued. "It's on the right. '24 hour hospital' over the top of the door."

Kanda found it, pulling into an open parking spot right upfront by the sliding doors.

When they opened the passenger door, they found Tim on his side, panting hard. Kanda didn't want to struggle with the pained dog, instead lifting Tim up in his arms. Which was surprisingly easy, all that fur making him look heavier than he was.

Allen was already inside, getting the issue squared away with the receptionist. Dressed in scrubs like a nurse, she said something about the phone call and a quiet night giving them time to prepare. Within minutes, she was carting the dog back to a room where the antivenom was already waiting.

Allen's grey eyes, lined with worry, followed the dog's figure until Timcanpy disappeared. His attention returned to the receptionist when she said something about filling out some forms on the dog's medical history. Almost automatically Allen took them, finding a place in one of the plastic chairs by the front door to do so. Kanda, tired of sitting, leaned against the wall beside the chair.

"Text Lavi, will you?" Allen muttered, eyes trained on the clipboard. "I need his credit-card number."

"He's in bed by now."

"I talked to him already. He and Lenalee are still awake," he answered, tone bland.

Kanda grudgingly did as requested, and to his surprise, Lenalee texted the information back with a quick question making sure everyone was Ok. Sending a simple, _all fine now. Explain later_ , he read off the card information to Moyashi and returned the phone to his pocket.

After maybe ten minutes of filling out forms, Allen finally turned the papers back over to the front desk, managing his clown-mask smile. Back in his seat, hunched over his knees with his hands clasped between them, they waited.

The only time Kanda had ever seen Allen that worried was during Lenalee's rollerblading accident senior year when the girl had been hospitalized for a broken arm. Usually, Allen could at least muster up the strength for a straight posture and pleasant attitude. That was the first time he hadn't bothered; this was the second.

"What happened?" the Brit finally asked, tone sharp as his accusatory eyes met Kanda's. His jaw was clenched, looking unusually… angry.

"Tim wanted a walk. I took him over to the forest. The snake was lying just in the trees."

Allen shook his head, glare meeting Kanda's. "Really, Bakanda? You were mad enough at Tim to let him get bitten by a snake? What the hell is wrong with you?!" He jumped from the chair as if his sudden rage were too much to contain sitting down.

"I didn't let him do anything," Kanda grit out, holding the other's angry look. "He jumped in front of the snake. Not my damned fault."

"You should know better than to let the dog wander aimlessly in the forest at night! What the hell?" Allen kept glaring, but finally shook his head, looking away. "Whatever. I'm done reasoning with you."

"Even I'm not low enough to get some dog bitten by a snake," Kanda growled, trying to hold his temper. "It tried to lunge at me, but Tim got in the way. Be mad at your chivalrous mutt."

Allen's eyes narrowed, a little disbelieving. "…He jumped in front of the snake?"

"Yes," Kanda grit out, tired of talking about it.

Allen finally calmed down a bit, expression going from enraged to just… resigned. After a few moments, he sat back down. Allen ran his hands through his tied-up hair, stopping when he encountered the hair tie in the back.

"I'm surprised he got close at all."

"Why?" Kanda found himself asking.

"I used to do some hiking in college. Tim started coming with me, so I got him snake-proofed."

"Snake-proofed," Kanda said blandly.

Allen rolled his eyes. "It's a real thing. You put the dog around a rattlesnake and squirt them with water when they get too close. Then when the dog smells the snake outdoors, it knows to stay away."

"…you put Tim in a pit with live snakes and let people squirt him in the eyes?"

Moyashi winced. "When you put it like that it sounds kind of bad, but… he's saved me a few times before. I guess he didn't this time because it was so long ago."

Kanda internally agreed until he remembered Tim's strange behavior before the snake lunged. How the dog had stopped for no reason in the grass and started pulling on the leash, wanting to go back to the car.

Not only had the dog taken a snake-bite for him, it'd also tried to warn him.

"What?" Allen asked, apparently seeing something in Kanda's expression.

Shaking his head, the Japanese man muttered, "Your dog knew."

The white-haired adult smiled fondly. Not the over-sweet ones he gave everyone else, but the smiles he reserved for the special things in his life. Like his dog. "He did? That's good."

And, for the first time on their trip, the conversation ended without enraged voices and bruised egos.

A few minutes later, the door separating the veterinary space from the office swung open, veterinarian stepping out into the linoleum waiting area.

"You're here for Tim?" The middle-aged woman asked, pencil stuck in the back of her messy bun.

"Yeah. Is he Ok?"

"Fine. He'll be fine. We just gave him a little something for the pain until the treatment kicks in. He'll be good-as-new by morning."

"Perfect! Thank you so much."

"Of course," She smiled tiredly. "He's a sweet dog. If you've taken care of the bill, you can go home now."

As if on cue, Timcanpy walked in from the back of the animal hospital. He looked… more subdued than usual – his tail was still wagging, but the chocolate eyes were a little softer, gait a little slower. Something that, Kanda soon learned, was due to the pain medication and not any lingering effects from the snake bite. There was a bandage wrapped around the dog's leg, his limp all-but-gone. Tim's attitude brightened some at the sight of Allen, perfectly happy to see his master now that it meant getting away from scary needles.

After more 'thank-you's' on Allen's part, the three of them finally returned to the dark sedan.

Despite the fact it was after twelve at night, he'd been on the road nine hours, had been with the police for one, been robbed, and had to put up with Allen and the dog for most of that time, Kanda felt less pissed-off than he had early. Probably some of the exhaustion setting in, he reasoned.

When they got back to the hotel, the white-haired adult charged some snacks to their room (AKA Lavi's card), the trio feasting on Doritos and Chips Ahoy for dinner. A silent dinner filled with less hostility than had filled the silence on the ride down.

When Allen had gone into the bathroom to freshen up with whatever they could buy at the front desk, Kanda was left alone with the golden retriever.

Timcanpy, thanks to the pain meds, was so out of it he was close to tipping over. Still, the promise of Doritos had him sitting on his haunches, chocolate eyes watching Kanda with a small amount of anticipation.

The Japanese adult had never been good at words. Which was why he had a cat, since they didn't require much nurturing.

Still, he found himself looking into Tim's dark eyes with a, "Thank you."

The dog rested his golden muzzle on Kanda's knee, chocolate orbs flicking from his eyes, to the Doritos bag, and back again.

"Just this once," Kanda grunted, handing a few orange triangles to the dog.

Tim crunched them down in one bite, barely pausing to chew before they were gone. Just in time, as a few moments later, Allen emerged from the bathroom. Timcanpy – either sensing that exchange had been a secret or knowing he could pawn more food off of his master – drifted over to Allen with a listed gait, begging eyes trained on his bag of chips.

And much like Tim had predicted, Allen split the food 30-70.

An hour later when both adults were in bed, Timcanpy sharing the single bed with Allen (and snoring like he owned it), Kanda was just about to close his exhausted eyes when he heard a voice.

"Hey, Bakanda."

"What," he managed to grunt through half-lidded eyes.

"Thanks. For looking after Tim."

Kanda's eyes shot open.

Had Allen just... Thanked him?

It took a moment for him to formulate a reply in the darkness. "He protected my car. We're even."

"I thought you were holding him responsible for wrecking it," Allen countered.

"Not him. Just you."

"Thanks," The Brit quipped, this time definitely sarcastic.

Kanda thought they were done talking when he heard a faint, "Goodnight," minutes or hours later.

"...Goodnight."

Despite the chaos of their first day traveling together, the night ended more peacefully than he'd thought.

Kanda figured it wouldn't last. But he slept well none-the-less.

* * *

**Key Largo: 14 hours**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the seriousness… believe me, there are (hopefully) hilarious shenanigans to follow.
> 
> P.S. I know there's no Best Western in Petersburg VA. Just humor me.


	4. Caution: Road Hazards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies this is a few days late... I've been rereading this story straight through and it kind of struck me how the next few chapters are a little episodal in nature. I was trying to decide if I was going to do anything about it - (I still might) but for now, if it makes people smile, that's good enough for me... but really yes I'm just that lazy XD. Enjoy!

Allen fell asleep around one in the morning. Only to be awoken what seemed like minutes later when an alarm went off.

The adult bolted upright in bed, a warm mass covering his feet, eyes flitting around for the source of the offending noise. According to the clock on the nightstand, it was six in the morning.

"What the hell, Bakanda?" Allen groaned, reaching for the alarm over the pillow clutched between his arms. Tim, lying over his legs, let out a small groan when Allen's feet started jabbing into his ribs.

After the offending shrill had been successfully silenced (because, it was, like, six in the morning and he'd only had five hours of sleep), the white-haired adult noticed through bleary eyes that the bathroom light was on. As if on cue, a freshly-showered Kanda stepped out.

"Let's go, Moyashi."

"Screw you. I'm going back to bed," Allen moaned, burying his head in a pillow.

Kanda, not one to be deterred, corrected, "We need to hit the road."

"We've got two days. We'll be fine."

Allen was just starting to think he'd won the argument with his stellar logic when he heard the door lock click. "Car leaves in half an hour," The Japanese man growled.

It took Allen longer than it should have to process those words and get moving.

The Best Western in Petersburg, Virginia had a breakfast buffet. Thank God. So, when Kanda insisted they hit the road at six-thirty that morning, Allen was fortified with enough food to give him the strength to drive the remaining hours and walk Timcanpy. What the other guests were going to do for food wasn't really his problem, even if he did feel a bit guilty for cleaning the place out of their waffle batter, boiled eggs, breakfast muffins, both hash and cubed potatoes, and any sausage grilled or microwaved.

From Petersburg, Kanda drove another three hours, landing them in Fayetteville, North Carolina. There, Allen found an open bank to withdraw enough cash for their trip expenses. Kanda was still required to pay for half the hotel costs and all of his food; since they both used the same bank, the trip didn't take more than half an hour. From there, it was the Walmart Supercenter in the same city to replace their stolen necessities - A shopping-trip that was made all the more expensive because of Kanda's loyalty to certain products way out of Allen's normal pay-grade.

He was an EMT saving up for Med school. Exactly how rich did Kanda think he was?

Rich enough, apparently, to afford two pairs of _Levis_ , three cotton shirts, a tight-fit tank top, cloth hair ties, fancy hairbrush, and the most expensive brand of shampoo and conditioner carried at Walmart (which, Allen learned, was twenty dollars – 42.34 altogether with tax). And that didn't even include the things Allen needed. Clothing and toiletries he eventually paired down in order to save money for the bare necessities: AKA replacing snacks looted by the nefarious clowns (because, duh, food).

After about twenty minutes utilizing the Walmart bathrooms to change their clothes and brush their teeth with the newly-acquired toothpaste, the two adults and dog were back on the I-95 south by eleven. Kanda was so anxious to make time that he broke the Golden Rule of no eating in the car to save half-an-hour. Something he was probably regretting upon seeing just how much of a mess Allen's speed-eating was making in the shotgun seat.

"What the hell, Moyashi?" Kanda growled, sapphire eyes detouring from the road long enough to eye the various burger wrappings discarded on the dashboard.

"wha?" Allen asked through seven fries, not even having the space to form whole words.

"Keep that fucking greasy stuff off of my dash." Kanda punctuated the statement by brushing the discarded papers from the car and back into Allen's lap.

"Whe yowa me ta pu it?"

"Your dog talks better than that," The Japanese man snapped, attention going back to the road, passing a minivan driving half the speed of turtles.

"Where do you want me to put it?" Allen finally said, enunciating each word like he was talking to a five-year-old. "Your car is like the size of a pin. You don't even have grocery sacks for trash. What do you want me to do, litter?"

"If it means keeping that greasy shit off my car," He quipped.

"In case you can't read, Bakanda, there's a 10,000 dollar fine for littering. After buying all your beauty products from Walmart, I don't have the funds to feed myself."

"Be more concerned about the dent in my car you'll be paying for."

Oh, he just had to rub it in, didn't he?

"Maybe if your gear shift wasn't such a – Whoa, watch it!"

It was mid-argument that the black sedan approached a construction zone on the I-95. Unfortunately, because of the hills and plethora of trees, neither adult had noticed traffic was at a dead-stop until they were thirty-feet from the break-lights.

Kanda slammed on the breaks, having noticed the permanent stop a moment before Allen, muttering a curse as he did so. 18-wheelers and hauling trucks that couldn't respond to the sudden dead-stop traffic were forced to drive into the berm to the right and left, veering into the grass and rocks like go-carts on speed.

The dark sedan stopped less than two feet behind the bumper of a Ford pick-up, stopping so suddenly Kanda and Allen jerked against their seatbelts, nearly losing breath as they did. Timcanpy fared no better, smacking into the back of the driver's seat with a yelp as he fell to the floor.

"Jesus, what the hell?" Kanda groused, as if there were actual traffic gods responsible for such a travesty.

Allen turned around in the seat to check on the dog. Timcanpy had all for paws braced against the floor, smashed between the back seating and Kanda's chair. "You Ok, bud?" After a head-pat from his owner, the dog was indeed Ok, hopping back onto the chair to view the action from the padded comfort.

"Forget the damned dog, Moyashi," Kanda growled. "Figure out how far this back-up is."

Allen, distracted by another semi speeding past them at fifty-miles-an-hour, couldn't even form a snappy response. If those trucks hadn't seen the back-up… and had kept going on the interstate…

God, and he thought fixing the bumper was going to be expensive.

After a few minutes of scrolling on his phone, Allen finally found an online report of the back-up. "Looks like they're doing construction further up… I guess there was some kind of accident. There aren't any lanes open yet, so traffic's being rerouted off of the nearest exit. The only thing there is a Flying J, so I'm guessing they don't have the road space for all these people."

Kanda started messing around with the built-in GPS system mounted onto the car dash, locating the exit from where they were parked. "That's… a few miles from here," he grit out, apparently imagining the bumper-to-bumper cars between them and the exit.

"Good thing we already stopped for lunch," Allen muttered, internally sighing at the idea of sitting in traffic for however long it was going to take to get off the interstate.

Still, he felt for the people who'd been caught in the accident. The report hadn't said if there were any fatalities, only that a few people had been carried off in an ambulance. Still, at least the emergency-responders had arrived – hopefully everyone got the help they needed.

"Fuck that," Kanda replied, dark eyes scanning the landscape, raven pony-tail caught in the AC vent draft.

Allen, figuring Kanda was just a little restless, put his attention to reading the bumper-stickers on the car in front of them. Sure, it would get old in a few minutes, but it wasn't like they-

"What are you doing?" Allen asked, half-concerned and half-terrified as Kanda started turning the car into the left lane of traffic.

"Getting out of here."

"How exactly do you- Kanda, watch it!"

"I can see, Beansprout," he muttered, focused on maneuvering the car's nose between another sedan and a minivan bumper.

Fortunately, no one started honking horns or shouting expletives (at least, that Allen could hear) as the Japanese man switched lanes in dead-stop traffic, not hesitating to muscle cars twice their size to make room in the adjacent lane.

By that point, Allen had figured out what Kanda was trying to do. And he did not like it.

"What the fuck, Kanda? Are you trying to get us killed?"

"Shut up, Moyashi."

"I will not shut up! There are semis passing us at over fifty in the median. Do you understand what's going to happen if we get hit by one? They're five times our size!"

Kanda, however, was in no mood to listen. His mind had already determined there was a way to keep them from sitting for hours in traffic. After the time they'd wasted shopping, he gave no quarter to Allen's protests or any potentially life-threatening situations.

All it saw was freedom.

And, Allen thought, at seventy-miles-an-hour, 'freedom' looked a lot like 'sudden-pain-followed-by-instant-death'.

Allen clutched the Oh Shit handle for dear life as Kanda pulled a U-turn in the posted no-U-turn median, sights set on the north-bound traffic. Timcanpy, who'd finally calmed down, went slamming into the door of the car with another yelp as Kanda put metal-to-metal, taking the car from zero to seventy in the space of twenty feet.

"Jesus, Bakanda!" Allen shouted as the car revved up in the north-bound lane. "What the hell was that? Tim and I could have died."

"The dog's fine," Kanda snapped, sapphire eyes not even bothering to glance at the dog who'd been body-slammed into the nearest hard surface. Twice.

"Ugh, just – a little-heads-up next time, alright?" Allen groused, checking on the dog once again. Who was trying to situate himself back on the chair, giving the car door a wary glance.

Ah, Tim. Ever the trooper.

Kanda just _tsk_ ed. "Find us the right exit."

"Fine," Allen agreed, pulling up his phone's Maps App to look for a road that would take them off of the north-bound road and go south past the I-95 back-up. "As long as you split the gas money with me."

The Japanese man, more interested in getting back on the road, agreed with a grunt.

The duo, after the daring U-turn on the interstate, took the exit for a Love's travel stop. At the exit, the stopped at the gas station for bathroom breaks and disposing of trash, Kanda walking Tim (at the younger adult's insistence) while Allen continued searching his Maps App for a proper road around the mess.

Finally finding a single-lane road than ran practically all the way to the Great Pee Dee River (No he hadn't read that wrong) to merge with the I-95 just inside South Carolina, well beyond the back-up, Kanda retook the wheel.

As the large southern trees enveloped the one-lane road, cracked pavement bumping beneath them, the Japanese driver continued to break speed limits and pass tractors, quickly eating up empty stretches of pavement.

They continued on the single-lane frontage road for what was about thirty minutes without coming across the road that was supposed to take them back to the I-95.

"I'm telling you, it's supposed to be here," Allen said, scanning the roadside with his grey eyes.

"You must be reading it wrong."

Glaring, the white-haired adult stuck his phone under Kanda's nose. "See? That blue dot is us. That white line is the road. It's not here."

Kanda grunted, but otherwise quit arguing. "How do we get back, then?"

It was a valid question. All they'd seen for the past half hour were thick trees engulfed in ivy, blue sky, and chipped asphalt. No road signs, no people, no cars, and definitely no turn-offs back to the I-95. Not even a dirt-road to some farm house or cabin.

"According to this," Allen muttered, looking back at his phone, "We should come across another road soon. Wait, why are we slowing down? Did you find it?"

"No. There's something in the road," Kanda answered pensively, the car slowing from sixty-miles-an-hour (posted limit being forty) to thirty-five.

"Is that a tree?" Allen question aloud, looking at the shaded stretch of asphalt before them.

There was some kind of dark, mottled log resting in the middle of the road. It was an odd place for a tree, since there wasn't a stump near-by. And didn't trees normally fall on the side of the road, close to their stumps?

…did it look like it was breathing?

As if Kanda had the same thought, he slammed on the brakes. Thankfully, for Tim's sake, they slowed in a much gentler manner than Kanda's previous attempts, the sedan stopping fifteen feet from the road obstruction. Close enough to see the object but left with enough room to maneuver around if they had to.

Not that there was any maneuvering space. The shrubbery on both sides of the road ran practically up to the asphalt, some mud visible between the green and black. There was only about four feet on either side of the object and the pavement borders, the thing practically the width of Kanda's sedan and then some.

As they adults watched, they noticed the obstruction – which was definitely breathing – had a sharp point on the right side that looked like… a tail. The other end looked like a snout twice that size. Just visible in the shade looked like a grin to rival the Cheshire cat, carving out a jaw that when open could probably swallow Allen whole and still have room for Timcanpy.

"It's an alligator," Allen blurted, half awed and half terrified.

The Brit's dove eyes could pick out the small slits for the reptile's own eyes. Could see the rough shades created by the hills and valleys of its scales running down its back. Two stumpy legs sat underneath its broad belly, looking hardly adequate to lift an Alligator that was easily twelve feet in length.

Sure, Allen had seen them before, but never in the middle of the road. Usually it was from behind the safety of a fence looking down into a lake, and even then, the dark reptiles were maybe thirty feet away. Not right outside his car and within chomping distance should anyone need to get out for a potty-break.

"Damn," Kanda scowled like there was a cow shit on his shoes. Which, Allen thought, hardly qualified to express his sudden fear.

"Maybe we should turn back," The Brit suggested.

"I'm not turning around again because of some stupid reptile."

"Kanda, that's not just any reptile. That's an alligator. The same ones that drag their victims to the bottom of a lake and roll around with them until they drown. We're getting out of here."

"Fuck that," The Japanese man swore, gripping the steering-wheel hard enough to bend it.

"What are you going to do? Threaten it with Mugen until it leaves? That guy's too fat and happy to move for anything less than dinner. Time to move on."

Kanda blinked at Allen, eyes widening as if struck with a sudden idea. Allen, now feeling apprehensive, watched the adult pull out the Loves gas station sacks from the back of the car.

"What are you doing?" the Brit asked in vain, watching Kanda root through the sacks. The Japanese adult having decided talking was no longer necessary.

A few seconds passed, where only the rustling of plastic could be heard. Then, as if striking gold, Kanda smirked. Apparently having found what he was looking for.

Kanda's slender hand pulled out a fist-load of beef sticks.

The same ones Allen had purchased in case Timcanpy wanted a snack on the road.

The gleam in Kanda's sapphire eyes suggested he wouldn't be using them to feed the dog.

"Wait a second, you know people aren't supposed to… why the hell do I even bother," Allen groaned, scrubbing at his face.

"No idea," Kanda agreed, sadistic smirk a little too evident as he rolled the window down with child-like glee.

Kanda, sticking his fingers between his lips let out a sharp whistle so loud a few birds took flight. What followed was the sound of crinkling as Kanda unwrapped all five beef sticks, a surprisingly strong scent of meat and spices filling the air.

Allen watched as the alligator popped a single eye open. Or he thought it was an eye – could have been the shade.

Apparently satisfied to have its attention, Kanda chucked all five beef sticks out the window.

They sailed through the forest like stick-figure acrobats somersaulting through the air. Allen watched, dumbfounded, as the once-sedate reptile hefted its body onto all fours. The alligator moved faster than he thought possible as it gave a python-like waddle chase to the beef sticks.

"Holy shit," Allen breathed, surprised. That had actually worked. Of course, he and Kanda would be sent to jail for feeding gators, but… it had actually worked.

Kanda, pleased with his solution, started flooring it down the now-empty highway.

Maybe five minutes later, they finally came across the road that connected with the I-95. They'd also crossed the Great Pee Dee River in their haste; so close to the Atlantic, the river was more like the Mini Pee Dee River, making Allen think its names was given further upstream.

"Remind me never to get you a gecko."

Kanda, having successfully merged with south-bound traffic on the I-95, didn't bother taking his eyes off the road. "They eat crickets, Moyashi."

"…so are you saying you'd actually throw crickets at it, or…"

Kanda smirked. "Fuck no. I'd just run it over."

Allen, for once, found himself oddly grateful Tim wasn't a mini-poodle.

* * *

**Key Largo: 11 hours**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a review if you have time, and thanks for reading!


	5. Check Hotel Reviews

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beware - spookiness ahead!
> 
> P.S. Aldi's is a minimarket chain in the south/eastern United States.

"For the last time, it was an alligator. Say it with me: al-li-ga-tor."

Great. That was just great. Here he was, talking to himself in the middle of the minimart.

At least, Allen consoled himself, the store was pretty empty, so no one was around to gawk as he enunciated a word even six-year-olds knew to the juice boxes.

Whatever.

Allen, replacement snacks in hand, marched away from the drinks section and towards the front check-out stands. Kanda had only agreed to stop at the minimart because he'd finally, finally, realized the importance of having food on a trip. For entirely different reasons than Allen, but the Brit wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Even if said gift-horse mixed up crocodiles and alligators.

Allen could (maybe) forgive the man if Kanda had grown up in Japan. But he hadn't. Well, until he was nine, then he'd moved to America with Tiedoll, but… whatever. Almost fifteen years was more than enough time to know the difference between an alligator and a crocodile. Hell, if Allen had to sit through Discovery channel episodes on reptiles indigenous to North America, then so did Kanda, dammit.

As Allen retied his low pony-tail, waiting for the cashier to check his goods, he could admit that he was being a little bit unreasonable. But… Kanda was just so damned smug.

The Japanese driver was proud of himself for eliminating the most vicious natural predator of the southern United States from the roadway. In under five minutes.

Kanda didn't show his self-satisfaction like normal people. But Allen could tell. Mostly because he hadn't objected when Allen left him alone with Timcanpy while he went in for a re-fill on chips (and, yes, beef sticks) only a few hours after the famed interruption.

It had been their second reptile encounter since leaving New York, which was more than Allen had ever met outside of a pet store. At least, so far, they were all still Ok. Which was good.

The young Brit, after thanking the cashier (who hadn't even stared at his facial scar), took his two bags back out into the humid South Carolina air.

The air wasn't as warm as it had been when they'd stopped at a rest area only an hour ago. Now, soft dove-colored clouds filled the sky. They'd blown in so fast that the sky and bright sun were completely obscured. A damp, cool wind pulled at the loose white strands around Allen's face, brushing against his exposed forearms and cotton clothes.

Despite the setbacks, they'd actually been making fairly good time (although thanks to Kanda's wake-up call Allen was already on his sixth cup of coffee, but whatever – not like caffeine was bad for you or anything). They had to be in the Florida Keys by tomorrow evening for Lavi's bachelor party and they only had eight or so hours left. It would be another late night, or maybe an early morning (or both if Kanda had his way), but they'd definitely make it in time.

Allen said as much to Kanda when he got back in the shotgun seat, following up with his concerns about the impending rain.

"It's just water."

"No, it's rain. You know, the kind that comes down in sheets? Making it hard to see and soaking you to the bone?"

"I know what rain is, Moyashi," Kanda snapped, dark eyes shooting him a disgusted glare. "Which is why I know it's harmless."

"Unless you're speeding down the highway at almost eighty miles an hour. Actually more like 100 with the way you drive."

"You don't like the way I drive? Walk."

"Then again, we're making good time. Who am I to judge?"

Kanda's grunt said he believed that back-track just as much as he believed Tim hadn't been slobbering all over his leather.

They'd just pulled back onto the interstate. The cloud cover had forced some of the cars to turn their headlights on, and theirs was no exception. Kanda seemed to have fallen back into the trance he got when driving – focus only on the road, ignoring all distractions (ie Allen). But the Brit was having too much fun to let himself be ignored.

"And would you look at _Aldi's_ snacks," Allen grinned, rifling through the bag of treats he'd pilfered from the mini mart.

Instead of pointing out that they'd only finished lunch two hours ago, Kanda snapped, "No eating in my car."

"You want to eat but you want to make time. Can't have it both ways, Bakanda. Cheese stick?"

"How can you eat that crap?"

"With _Aldi's_ choices, is it even possible to go wrong?"

Kanda didn't seem to think so, scowling at the proffered dairy product like Allen was waving a cockroach at his face. "One more pun and those things are going in the trash."

The Brit, chucking, took the cheese stick for himself. Only… ugh. Something about the smell was just…

Figuring the cheese was bad, Allen went for another bag of food. This time some salted potato chips. However, once he got the bag open, something about the seasonings just made him lose his appetite.

It took another try at Chips Ahoy before he figured out it wasn't the food. It was him.

"What, finally full?" Kanda scoffed.

"…my stomach feels weird. You feeling alright?" Because if Kanda was also feeling weird, then it wasn't his eating habits that were the problem.

"Che. Yes."

Despite this reassurance, Allen couldn't help noticing the Japanese man looked a little pale, his eyes a little too dilated. His hands were gripping the steering wheel too tight, and that permanent scowl almost looked a little pained. And… was that sweat on his forehead?

"You sure? Because you don't look too good."

"I'm- ugh."

Kanda made a disgusted grimace as cut in front of a car in the right lane, who honked his horn. Unperturbed, Kanda continued sliding out of traffic and into the shoulder, kicking up dust in their review. Slamming on the brakes, Kanda took the car from fifty to zero in ten feet, jumping out of the car without even bothering to check for cross-traffic.

A beat later, the sounds of puking could be heard from the ferns off to the right.

…And there went Allen thinking they would actually be making good time that day.

**XXXXX**

Twenty minutes later, the two adults and golden retriever were checked into an inn somewhere between Walterboro, South Carolina and Savanna, Georgia. Allen couldn't tell if they'd passed Coosawhatchie yet, mostly because the world was spinning too much for him to read the map.

Before the world got too out of focus, he'd had managed to locate a little bed and breakfast. Something that were apparently as common in the South as thrift stores. Which was great because Kanda was too sick to do much more than breathe (even if he wouldn't admit it). Allen wasn't feeling far behind him, much less feeling well enough to continue driving the I-95 in the pouring rain.

And pouring it was. By the time he and Allen had both grudgingly agreed to rest until the sickness passed, Kanda having thrown up twice on the roadside and Allen on the way to divesting his lunch all over the soft leather, the water was falling so hard the windshield wipers were barely keeping up and the dirt road was already starting to turn to mud.

The inn Allen managed to find was less than ten minutes off the interstate. Unfortunately it had turned into a dirt road halfway, the cypress trees enveloping their car like so much green sludge. When the trees finally vanished, the inn looked so much like a historic plantation Allen was wondering if he'd taken a wrong turn – the brick siding half obscured by vines and mold, half-dead flowers sitting beneath the pitch-black windows. It was structured like a large rectangle with a big porch and large windows covered in curtains.

That was, until he saw the "Dankern Bed and Breakfast" sign hanging from the porch. There weren't any other cars outside, so he figured their chances of getting a room were great. Which was a relief, because the food poisoning was making him claustrophobic for some reason and being in Kanda's tiny car was not helping.

Kanda's skin had gone from sun-tanned to moldy-bread blue, leaning against the window with a barely-concealed wince. He looked on the verge of throwing up again, meaning Allen would be the one checking them in.

Which would have been fine, except the rain was already starting to look like it was coming in from the side and the car felt like it was half-submerged in mud. Which may have been true or just a figment of his sickness-addled brain.

Bed. Find a bed, then he could take a nap. Things were always fixed with a good nap.

After shrugging on a coat, Allen stepped out into the rain.

He felt practically drenched by the time he made it to the door, despite the distance only being fifteen feet or so. Under the safety of the porch, the Brit tried the doorbell, then a knock, resisting the urge to lean against the door-frame so he wouldn't fall over. It was starting to look like no one was going to answer and he'd have to just settle for a nap in the car when the door swung open.

The doorway was large enough to fit a piano. The interior was just as impressive.

Dark-stained molding, mirrors and oil paintings on the wall. Soft maroon rugs on the floor and burnished wood beneath. Despite the plantation-looking exterior, the design inside was more Historic Victorian or whatever was older than the nineteenth century. At least the place had been wired for modern electric, which was a plus, eve as the lace doilies and wrought-iron lamps kept the antique feel.

The odd part was that there was no one on the other side of the door. Which was weird because it looked too solid to just swing open on its own.

"Hello?" Allen called, stepping hesitantly into the foyer, the wood flooring creaking with each step. "Is anyone here?"

"Hello."

Allen nearly jumped. Nearly. Because he didn't scare that easily. No matter what Kanda and Lavi said.

The sudden speaker was a young woman, probably only a few years older than him, with shoulder-length mahogany hair held back by a ruby hairband. Her smile was reserved even as her tone was welcoming, grey eyes meeting his.

Allen was so woozy he could barely get out the words without vomiting. "Uh, sorry for just dropping in. I need a room for my friend and me. And, um, do you take dogs?"

"Of course." her smile widened, ash eyes looking over-bright as she pulled an album-sized book out of a narrow bookcase in the hallway, dropping it onto the hall table with a thunk.

The lights, which seemed over bright to his sick-addled mind, barely noticed the young woman retrieve a pen from her jeans and open the book to the appropriate page. "I'm Sophia, by the way. And you are?"

"Uh, Allen. Allen Walker. Do you run this place?" Allen's innate manners couldn't stop him from asking if he'd tried.

"Oh, yes. Just me and my father."

Allen took the proffered pen, signing his and Kanda's name in the register. He couldn't help noting many of the other signatures looked too faded to be recent. The paper was thicker than he'd seen before, the pages a little yellowed at the edges.

Allen thought he saw a date stamped on the front of the book – something maybe starting with the 1800s – but Sophia tucked it back into the shelf before he could be sure. "Your room is on the second floor. If you'll follow me?"

"Let me get my friend first."

"Of course."

She waited until Allen went out to retrieve Kanda. It hadn't stopped raining, and if anything, the water was coming down even harder. This time it really was slanted thanks to the wind, and it took the Brit a few minutes of searching before he found Kanda's jacket in the back. Unfortunately he hadn't packed any jacket for Timcanpy, but that didn't end up being a problem, since (for once) the golden retriever didn't dally in the mud, running over to the porch to wait.

Kanda ignored Allen's proffered shoulder, apparently preferring to wobble over to the inn like a drunkard. Whatever – as long as Allen didn't have to pick him out of the mud, he didn't really care.

Allen pocketed the car keys and left everything but their phones in car. By the time he joined the duo on the porch, Kanda was already following Sophia up the stairs.

"Come on, Tim."

The dog, despite his earlier enthusiasm to get inside, was sitting outside the door. Refusing to come in.

What, was he sick too?

"Nice dog."

Either thanks to the rain or Allen's sickness, he hadn't heard the middle-aged man join him on the porch, firewood beneath his arms. The stranger had long silver hair with a retreating hairline, mustache so thick is practically obscured his lips.

"Thanks. He's usually pretty brave, so I'm not…"

Timcanpy was growling. At the old man.

"Tim, stop," Allen sighed, grabbing the dog's collar to keep him from doing… whatever he wanted to do. Because, really, his headache was too damned big to deal with anything at the moment, and he didn't want to risk pissing off anyone at the inn.

Still, it was odd. Timcanpy hardly ever had a problem with strangers.

Reining in his discomfort, Allen patted the dog on the head. "You Ok, bud?"

The dog's growl tapered off into a whine, chocolate eyes flicking up at his master before finally going quiet. He still seemed uncomfortable, Tim's eyes going back to the old man despite his master's reassurances.

"Are you her father?" Allen asked the old man, thinking back on what Sophie had said about running the place.

Instead of answering, the man mumbled so low Allen almost missed it, "It's easy to get trapped in here during the rain. You and your friend best be off at daylight before it gets worse."

Before Allen could ask what he meant – because to him the road had seemed fine coming in, if a bet muddy – he looked up and...

The old man was gone.

The white-haired adult glanced around, but the other wasn't anywhere to be found. Vanished, almost as if he hadn't been there in the first place.

It wasn't until Allen had dragged Timcanpy inside and up the stairs that he wondered how the old man knew he was traveling with someone else.

**XXXXX**

Kanda woke up with a splitting headache.

It took him a moment of sitting in the pitch-black darkness to remember where he was and how he'd gotten there.

Throwing up on the highway, Allen driving them down a muddy road, then the plantation-style bed-and-breakfast sitting in the middle of the woods. Some woman had shown him to a room, and after throwing up in the bathroom just after finding it, Kanda collapsed onto a quilted double bed. Which was apparently where he still was. Someone had put a blanket over him, which was good, because the inn was drafty and it was damned cold.

According to the clock on the nightstand, it was just past midnight. Which… Jesus, had he been that tired? He'd been chugging coffee all day, so the exhaustion was probably thanks to whatever food poisoning Allen had given him.

Another evening of driving down the toilet. Which wouldn't have been wasted in the first place if they'd just skipped lunch like he'd wanted.

Allen's form was just visible on the neighboring bed, completely conked out. So lost in dream land that his mouth was half open, a bit of drool trailing down his cheek. Timcanpy, who probably wasn't allowed on the furniture but had got on the bed anyway, was curled atop Allen's feet, not-so-soft snores echoing in the wallpapered room like the groans of an old furnace.

The storm was still blowing out the curtained window, but the gale-force winds and pounding rain had tapered off to a steady patter of rain. Thunder sounded in the distance several miles away, indicating the heavy downpour must have continued further east.

With going back to sleep looking (and sounding) less and less likely, Kanda got up in search of water. Only, when he tried the bedside lamp, it didn't turn on.

It took a few more tries with various bulbs around the room before he realized the electricity was out.

Tch. Just great. If it wasn't one thing, it was something else.

Kanda ended up using his phone's screen (because he didn't have one of those fancy flashlight apps) to find his way over to the door.

The hallway outside was dark, the only light coming from the windows via the occasional lighting bolt. The wood floor seemed to creak with every step as Kanda made his way towards the stairs, taking them two at a time to the foyer. In the dark, because phone screens didn't do shit to see with in the middle of the night.

Finding the kitchen proved to be a bit harder than he'd thought, mostly because of the many, many rooms on the first floor (despite the small size, plantation houses were apparently teeming with spaces). He ended up finding it in the back corner of the house, tucked behind a second dining room and a servant's hallway.

Unlike the rest of the house, the kitchen was updated, with a running tap and an electric fridge. Which, despite being out, still had cold water. God that was refreshing, after all that throwing-up.

_Bang!_

Kanda dropped the glass of water, reaching for Mugen on instinct.

Only, Mugen wasn't there. Allen had left it in the car. Leaving Kanda oddly vulnerable just as a shrill shriek echoed through the lower level.

He left the shattered glass behind, running in the direction of the noise.

Kanda followed the shrieking noise through the library, his quick reflexes just saving him from tripping over a coffee table. It continued into the the sitting room beyond the library, where he found the source.

A window was open to the outside and the shutter had come undone in the storm. It was banging against the outside wall with each gust of wind, the shrill noise coming from the howling of the storm. The shriek... it had sounded so human.

Jesus, that was why he hated old houses.

Kanda's dry clothes were soaked by the time he'd searched for the latch and successfully muscled the window closed. The rug beneath his feet was even more sodden, meaning the window had probably been open for a while.

Fuck. He'd have to pick up the glass from his drink on top of cleaning up the wet mess. Leave it to the Moyashi to pick the oldest, dumbest inn in the middle of nowhere.

Another flash of lighting illuminated the yard just outside.

There was someone out there.

Darkness fell. The figure vanished.

What the hell was someone doing outside in that weather after midnight? Whoever it was, they'd looked old, broad-shouldered and holding something heavy in their arms.

Another bolt fell over the forest less than two seconds later, illuminating the thick bulbous sheets of clouds overhead, trees looking like dark shadows beyond the clearing.

The yard was empty.

What the hell?

There had been someone out there. He was sure of it. Where had they gone in that time? There was nothing out there but dead leaves and a muddy road. And, no, he wasn't seeing things, because Kanda did not see things that weren't there.

But… he could concede that his mind might still be addled from the food poisoning. Maybe there'd been no one there. Maybe.

Kanda gave the sitting room one last scowl before stomping back up to the second floor. He needed some rest, apparently. But he still had to clean up that damned mess in the kitchen. Although skipping that and leaving it until morning was sounding like a fabulous idea. And by then the electricity would probably be back on.

He was so focused on getting back to the room that Kanda almost missed the creaking floor board.

Kanda froze on the second-floor landing, trying to listen for the errant noise. Everything was quiet - with the electricity out, the only sounds came from the pattering of rain outside and the occasional bolt of thunder.

Another creaking floor board. It sounded like... someone walking around.

A loud creak like a door hinge, then a slammed door.

Kanda shone his phone light down to the end of the second-floor hallway, in the direction of the slammed door. Towards the source of the heavy noise.

The hall was empty. Everything was dark.

He hated. Hated. _Hated_ old houses.

Inside their room, Allen was awake, sitting propped against the headboard with his phone on. The scar over his left eye was cast in sharp relief, making him look almost demonic in the luminescent light. The grin he gave Kanda didn't help the image.

"Oh, hey. Where'd you go?"

"Water."

"Did you forget it between here and the kitchen?" Allen asked, pale eyes flicking between his empty hands.

"Che. It fell." Well, he'd dropped it, but same difference. "Where's the dust pan?"

"No idea." Allen turned back to his phone, and before Kanda could snap something about getting his ass in gear to help find it, said, "I've been reading up on this inn. Did you know it's actually got some history?"

"It's old. Of course it does."

"No, not that," the Brit continued, either missing Kanda's tone or ignoring it. "It's got, like, creepy history." Finally meeting Kanda's eyes, he emphasized, "Three people were killed here."

Fine. He'd bite. "How."

Scrolling down his phone, Allen summarized, "It started in 1851 with the first residents of the house."

"'It'?"

"The murders. I'll get to the others in a minute. Anyway, two sisters and their dad lived here. I guess one of the sisters got sick, and while the other was away at work, the townsfolk were so scared of her sickness that they locked her inside of her room. By the time the other sister got back… her twin had died from carbon monoxide poisoning. She blamed her dad and stabbed him to death, then herself."

Allen's pale face had gone from interested to horrified by the time he'd finished. His reaction was almost funny, and just… very Allen. Only he would get that disturbed about a few murders from over a hundred years ago.

"Cool. Where's the dust pan? And towels."

"That's not all," Allen continued as if Kanda hadn't spoken, still reading from his phone. "Several other owners of the home have died since then. By stabbings, too. Five more people – one a brother-father murder-suicide in the fifties, then a sister-sister joint suicide in the nineties."

"So?"

Allen rolled his eyes, like Kanda was being the biggest idiot on the planet. Which sent the Japanese man from irritated to pissed off. "So, don't you think that's a bit of a coincidence? What if there's some kind of ghost?" Looking back at his article, he said, "The townspeople say they can still see the ghost of the murderous twin in the woods at night. They say she haunts this house, searching for revenge against the townsfolk."

 _Oh for the love of…_ "Ghosts. That's stupid."

"Then how do you explain all the murders?"

"If they're twins how do they know whose ghost its whose?" Kanda countered, giving in to the idiocy.

Allen opened his mouth to answer but closed it with a wince. "Ok, it does say they were identical."

"Moyashi. Dust pan."

Closing the internet app and opening one of those flashlight ones on his phone, Allen dislodged Tim from his feet to get off the bed. "Did you check the kitchen?"

Ugh, damn. "No."

"Let's go ask Sophia anyway. I feel weird poking around her house without her around." Then, instead of following Kanda and Timcanpy out the door, Allen stopped with a frown.

"What."

"Uh, nothing. Just… the second twin from the story was also named Sophia. Weird, huh?" He asked with a quick smile, stepping first out into the hallway.

"She said she and her dad would be down this hall," Allen continued as the two padded down the wood hallway, Timcanpy's claws tapping behind them, the dog unbothered by the storm raging outside.

There were five doors lining the hallway, one on the end and two on each side, spaced maybe twenty feet apart. That made the rooms fairly large, and after opening the door, Kanda found that to be an understatement.

Each one could probably hold a whole set of living room furniture. If they'd been occupied.

It didn't take him and Allen long to verify that they were empty. In fact, it looked like no one had been inside the rooms for years - the air smelled of dust, cobwebs hung in the rafters, and a carpet of undisturbed dust covered everything. White sheets covered the furniture, draped over what looked like a queen bed and a few sitting chairs. The fireplaces were dark, the windows curtained.

"That's weird," Allen muttered, voice right at Kanda's shoulder. "Doesn't look like anyone's been in here for years."

 _At least._ "How'd you find this Inn?" Kanda asked, still in that lowered volume.

"Um, I saw a sign on the roadside."

Of course he had.

Deciding then wasn't the best time to lecture the Moyashi on roadside safety, the duo continued to check all four rooms in the hallway.

They were all the same – untouched and unused, covered in dust.

That didn't make any damned sense. Kanda had seen the first floor - there weren't any bedrooms, which meant any guests had to stay on the second floor.

So if that was the case, why weren't the rooms lived-in?

Kanda couldn't help his growing apprehension as they approached the room at the end of the hallway. Timcanpy, oblivious to their growing unease, continued to patter behind the two adults like a cow led to the slaughter houses. Which was… a pretty grim expression, but Kanda couldn't stop his thoughts going in that direction if he'd tried. Something about the place… he was on edge. And he couldn't figure out why. Which only irritated him more.

Allen took the lead on opening the last door, oak swinging wide with a creaking noise that seemed oddly loud in the long hallway.

The room looked the same as the others with dust on every surface. Only this time, there wasn't any cloth over the furniture – the oak dresser was uncovered, as was the small sitting are around the fireplace, chairs and tables open to the dusty air. The bed, too, was made up with linens and a side lamp.

Only this bed had someone sleeping in it.

"Hey, Sophia," Allen whispered into the room, hesitant to step into the woman's room.

When the figure on the bed didn't move, he called again. No answer.

Kanda, fed-up with standing in the drafty hallway, barged past in with a curse. Because really. This place was pissing him off, and Kanda still had glass to clean up and sleep to get back to. He was not in the mood to play nice.

"Kanda," Allen whisper-shouted, following behind, Tim close at his heels.

The figure on the queen bed was sleeping on their side, facing away from them. Kanda grabbed her shoulder to jar her awake.

Only to jump back when the figure turned over.

It was a dead body. A dead, mummified body.

"Fucking hell!"

"Oh God! That's a…!"

The dead woman – even despite the desiccation, he could see that much – had been there for a long time. Decades, probably. The flesh had long-since been eaten away by insects and nature, remnants of skin sucked against her bones like fat on fried chicken, her jaw open in some kind of scream.

"Fuck," He repeated, jumping back with a start.

The mummified body cracked as it rolled over, empty eye sockets following Kanda as it fell to the side. The body would have tumbled off the bed if the bones hadn't been so stiff, propping up the sheets like a tent.

"Tim, don't look!" Allen cried, trying to cover the golden retriever's eyes. Which, in Kanda's opinion, was not only ridiculous but too late, since the dog had probably seen it before they had.

Only, instead of looking at the body, Tim was facing the door. Lips peeled back in a low growl.

Kanda had never heard a growl like that before. It was so low it made the hairs on his neck stand on end.

As they watched, Timcanpy let out a single threatening bark just as deep as his growl. Head lowered, tail down as he stared down something. What that something was, neither adult knew - the doorway was empty. It looked like the three of them were alone.

A flash of lightening cracked down just outside the house. Someone shrieked (And, no, it hadn't been him), both adults looking towards the window.

The body was gone.

The bed was empty. The sheets were made up on the mattress like it had never been there.

"What the…" Allen muttered, sounding both shocked and unnerved.

Another low bark drew their attention back to the door. Just in time to see Timcanpy charge from the room.

"Wait Tim!" Allen shouted, apparently already having decided that the dog had the right idea.

He lunged for the door only to run into Kanda on the way there. The two wasted a few seconds getting untangled before falling after the dog, neither taking the time to yell at each other for being in the way.

Kanda let his anxiety give way to adrenaline as he bolted after Allen. And if he was running a little faster than necessary, it was just because the dog was so fast. Not because of any creaking noises in the dusty room behind them, or a sudden howling noise that filled the house, sounding a hell of a lot like the shriek he'd heard earlier.

He and Allen took the steps two at a time, the duo practically flying down the stairs like hell itself were on their tail.

A loud bang resounded as the front door flew open, lightening and rain spilling into the foyer.

Kanda didn't even question it. Neither did his traveling companions, Timcanpy streaking out of the house like a golden football. His pale master was right behind him, Kanda right at Allen's heels as they cleared the open doorway.

Even outside of the house, none of them relaxed. And probably wouldn't, until the creepy inn in the crack-ass middle of nowhere was nothing but mud in their review mirror.

Allen already had the car keys out, practically jerking the passenger door off its hinges as he threw it open. Tim hopped inside, going from the shotgun seat to the back, Allen right on his tail.

Kanda was too busy taking the keys from Allen to remark on the muddy pawprints left on his leather chairs or the sopping clothes on his leather seats.

All he could think was: _Go._

They were going. As soon as fucking possible.

Allen, for once, didn't complain about the break-neck speed as Kanda took off down the road, mud kicking up behind them as he peeled away. Trees whizzed by like so many black blurs, rain pounding against their car like mini balls of hail.

As soon as they hit asphalt, the rain stopped, the wind was gone, and the lightening quit. So sudden it was almost hard to believe it had ever been there in the first place.

Kanda didn't feel himself relax until all three of them were back on the interstate and headed south.

"What the fuck was that?" Allen muttered, no longer clutching the door handle like the car would leave him behind if he didn't.

"No idea," Kanda growled, trying not to go more than twenty over the speed limit as he peeled down the highway. "But we are never mentioning it again."

"Yeah. Yeah. Never happened. Got it, Tim?"

The dog, returned to his normal behavior, set his nose on the arm rest between the adults' chairs. Not that those innocent brown eyes would fool Kanda – he'd seen the dangerous side to Timcanpy, and he would never underestimate it again.

Speaking of… "That is the last time you ever pick our hotel." Kanda put a little extra threat in his voice because… well, he was damned serious. Whatever the fuck had not-happened, it was definitely not happening again.

Kanda glanced at his profile; the Brit's skin was almost blue in the dashboard lighting, wet strands of ivory hair grazing his neck.

Allen looked about to protest, but as their eyes met, he seemed to change his mind. "Sure. Works for me."

Kanda turned his eyes back to the road. Allen started messing around with something at his feet. The white-haired adult finally popped back up with a bag of chips in his hand and another grin on his face. "At least we've still got _Aldi's_ snacks."

Allen didn't bother ducking the smack upside the head.

* * *

**Key Largo: 9 hours  
**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D.dgray fanfic Never Leave Me by darkotter inspired me for the ghost-story idea. Pretty good if you guys want to check it out! Link below:  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/882190
> 
> Also took some inspiration from X-Files How the Ghosts Stole Christmas. And when I wanted to do a ghost thing, I used The Village Where the Witch Dwells story in canonverse.
> 
> I had fun scaring the shit out of Allen and Kanda. At least, I think it was scary, but it was 1am writing it so that's probably why XD. Hope you guys liked this!


	6. Stop and Smell the Roses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting an extra chapter because I don't know if I can this coming weekend. We're now entering the disaster-to-closing arc, so enjoy!

Kanda and Tim were getting along.

It was true. As Allen stared out the window of the car at the rest area, he could see the tall Japanese man taking a walk with a faithful golden retriever at his knee. Timcanpy was without a leash - he didn't need one half the time and since they were the only three people at the rest area, it seemed a little redundant.

Why were they the only three there? That was because it was almost five in the morning and they'd just crossed into Florida. A drive made all the easier because the portion of the I-90 that ran through Georgia lasted maybe five seconds.

Still, if Allen had learned anything from the trip thus far, it was that (A) Coffee was God's gift to mankind and (B) Kanda was the most stubborn and irritating man to ever intimidate the face of the Earth.

So why were the two sworn enemies (on Kanda's end, anyway), strolling around the rest area like a man and his best friend?

Allen had absolutely no idea.

Either way, he wasn't about to say anything. And he didn't, pretending to be napping when Kanda and Timcanpy finally returned from the humid morning air to continue their drive into the Sunshine State. Home to the best oranges, which Allen would make sure to sample at the earliest convenience.

The Brit had really wanted to stop at St. Augustine on the way through and visit the Castillo de san Marcos, but since the sun was barely above the horizon, he'd bet two cases of Florida oranges that it wasn't open. And after sampling some freshly squeezed orange juice at the welcome center, he didn't take that bet lightly.

It wasn't until a few hours of some serious speed-limit-breaking had passed that they ran into a problem.

The beaches were lovely. Like, seriously lovely. White sands, royal-blue waters, and roaring waves beating beneath the salty winds. Seagulls overhead rode the gusts off of the Atlantic, wings spread wide as they searched for scraps of bread left behind by the beach-goers.

Or at least, that's what Allen figured it looked like.

After certain events had conspired the previous evening (er, early that morning, actually), events which both had sworn to never talk about again, Kanda had hit the road like Florida was sinking into the ocean if they didn't get there in time. Which Allen admired, since his own ability to drive in the dark ranked up there with Marie's ability to see colors.

Kanda, however, didn't have any problems navigating eighteen-wheelers five-times their size, or itty-bitty sports cars a fifteenth that, in the pitch-black (unlit) roadway of the I-95. Especially with three cups of coffee on board (the dark, extra strength caffeine stuff that didn't taste good without adding its weight in sugar).

So why was it that they had been in Florida for the past four hours and still hadn't seen the beach?

Kanda's shortcuts. That's why.

And, well, Allen couldn't exactly blame him. The I-95 was pretty crowded. Especially once the sun came up. But… that was kind of par for the course in road trips – the good with the bad. Even if sometimes the 'bad' led to more bad – one example being now.

Because at around 8am that morning, Kanda had had enough. He diverted them off the I-95 fifty miles before Miami. Apparently, there was a connecting road they could take to bypass the city traffic. Something that was easy, direct, and just a little slower than the I-95 speed limit.

Or, so he said.

After plenty of meandering (in no part aided by Allen's backseat driving), the trio was now smack-dab in the middle of some marshland road, miles from open water and any potentially helpful civilization.

But this wasn't the first time they'd gotten lost. So, really, there was no reason to panic.

That is, until the car broke down.

The dark sedan, which had carried the travelers 1,200 miles, putting up with the pit stops, dented bumpers, road hazards, and inclement weather (as well as certain suspicious local phenomena), had apparently reached its breaking point. And no amount of sweet-talking on Allen's part or swear-threats on Kanda's could change its mind.

Allen stood beside said vehicle, parked on the shoulder of a no-name two-lane highway. A humid breeze blew between the rail-thin trees, ruffling strands of his silver hair. It was warm out, but whatever storm they'd encountered in the Carolinas still shrouded parts of Florida, providing the occasionally puffy shadow to relieve the heat. The flying insects in the surrounding swamp water, however, didn't seem to get the message, buzzing in the air without a care in the world. The bugs only encountered danger when they veered too close to Kanda, who had the reflexes to stop flies dead in their tracks, never mind wasps and beetles twice that size.

Fortunately for the flying annoyances, Kanda was in the process of examining the car engine. Hood up, steam billowing out, he had a scowl on and a temper to match as he examined the dark components for some explanation to their sudden breakdown.

Why wasn't Allen helping? Well, that was an easy answer – Kanda wouldn't let him drive, never mind tinker around in his prized thirty-thousand dollar engine. Hence his banishment to Tim's side; The golden retriever had his head hanging out the window, oblivious to the growing frustration of the two adults.

"Have you found the problem yet?" Allen asked. Because… well, it was hot. And he was hungry, dammit.

Kanda didn't give any indication he'd heard him, busy clinking around inside the hood of the car.

"Move over," Allen sighed, stepping beside the annoyed driver at the front of the car. "I've been working on my motorcycle for years. I know a thing or two about engines. I'm sure I can fix this."

"Touch my car and die."

"So, what, you want to keep hanging out here in the swamps and hope we don't get bit by some disease-carrying insects? I'm taking a look."

A grunt. "Like you took a look at your bike? It broke down. In three hours."

He just had to go there, didn't he?

"Hey, that wasn't my fault! It was working fine over the weekend. I'm sure-"

"You're sure, what? Someone broke into the garage of a random college student and sabotaged your bike? Without Tim noticing?"

Both adults looked involuntarily towards the golden retriever, who was in the process of trying to chomp down the fly circling his head.

"…Never mind. That's actually a possibility," Kanda deadpanned.

"Ok, well, just… move."

"You move. I'm calling a mechanic."

"There's no need to do that. I'm sure we can fix it ourselves."

Kanda scowled, pulling up his phone to follow through on his threat. "I'm not wasting any more damned time on this."

With an eye-roll, Allen went back to examining the engine. "Just let me try first."

Kanda grunted, standing back with his arms crossed, daring Allen to fix it. Which was totally uncalled for. Because he could do this. Even if the engine was like twice the size of his motorcycle. With… weird things that didn't look like engine parts.

But… whatever. At the heart of it, all machines were the same. He'd figure this out in no time.

**XXXXX**

_40 minutes later_

"Found the problem?"

With a scowl, Allen had to admit defeat. "Alright, alright. Call a local mechanic and see if they can-"

"Fuck."

"What?" He asked, slamming the hood down.

"No signal."

"Seriously?" They were in the middle of Florida, for Pete's sake. Not Montana. Or Canada. Or anywhere Cross happened to take him.

Alright, well… "Which way?" Allen asked, glancing up and down the road, stretching in miles for either direction, nothing but vibrant trees and buzzing bushes as far as the eye could see. Which wasn't very far since Florida swamp forest was surprisingly thick.

Kanda took a few seconds to glare at pretty much everything before deciding, "Right."

Instead of going back the way they came, where they knew nothing lived, Allen didn't argue, grabbing Tim's leash and a few snacks for the road. Kanda pocketed the remainder of their cash and Mugen before locking the dark sedan, the trio striking off down the asphalt.

With the trees overhead, the walk wasn't as scorching as it could have been. But even so, by the thirty-minute mark, even Timcanpy had slowed down, tongue lolling dejectedly from his mouth.

Not to mention, Allen was getting bored. He couldn't play eye-spy with himself, and since he'd tried asking Kanda (only to get a very firm but rude rejection), there weren't many options left.

After ten minutes of the boring silence, he finally asked, "So, what do you think of Florida?"

As conversation-starters, it wasn't the worst. Probably. Even if Kanda acted like Allen just mistaken Mugen for a back-scratcher.

"Ok, Ok, forget I asked. But, I don't know, I kind of like it."

"…All the time you've spent here has been inside the car or walking the dog."

"Yeah, well, you can tell a lot about a place by its rest stops."

"Why am I not surprised," Kanda scoffed.

Allen feel like he was being insulted, but without knowing how, it was a little hard to fire back. "You ever been? To Florida, I mean, not the rest areas," he clarified upon the scathing look.

He knew Kanda hadn't gone on any trips when they were in high school together, but that was… four years ago? Maybe? Who knew what the other had been up to since then.

A scowl before he muttered, "Yes."

"Whoa, seriously? When?"

"The Old Man."

"You actually went on a trip with Tiedoll?"

That would be hard to unsee: the Tiedoll brothers stuck together on a family road trip. Minivan loaded down with suitcases full of Kanda's girly hair-products, Marie stuck in the back with his headphones on. Chaoji would probably end up in the shot-gun seat, busy monologuing about the latest pandemic in Africa, while Tiedoll hummed along diligently in the driver's seat, oblivious as Kanda tried to impale Daisya in an attempt to stop the man's never-ending commentary on anything and everything they passed by.

Kanda, noting Allen's not-so-silent laughter, snapped, "It was for Marie's wedding."

…Oh.

Allen had been invited, but it was during a crucial exam week at university, so going anywhere that wasn't the sciences building, grocery store, or his apartment was out of the question. The best he'd been able to do was a video call. It hadn't really occurred to Allen that Kanda would be there. Which… made sense, since they were brothers, but still.

At least he'd got them a good wedding gift. A friend in art school helped him write a piano solo. Not grand or anything, but it wasn't like he had the money to…

Wait.

"Holy shit, we're screwed."

"What," Kanda asked, sounding just one side of irritated.

The white-haired adult was too busy thinking on his sudden realization to answer right away.

This was the worst. The absolute worst.

"At least answer, Moyashi," the Japanese snapped, crossing the roadway to Allen's side.

"The Wedding presents," he answered, too distracted to snap back at the insult. "The clowns stole our wedding presents."

…

"Fuck."

"Oh man," The white-haired adult moaned. Because… he was screwed. Seriously screwed. "I spent weeks, weeks looking for that gift." And he did. Weekends and extra off-hours trying to find the perfect gift for his best friends' wedding. Something he could actually take time for now that he had the money. Or, well, actually had money.

"You want to know what I got her?" he continued, even though it was obvious Kanda didn't care. "A hand-painted sake cup set! You know how expensive that is? They were the flat ones, you know, sakazuki? For drinking at ceremonies and things?"

"Those are Japanese, idiot."

"I know that, but they were cute! And I thought she'd like it." Grey eyes dropped down in disappointment before spying the sullen look on Kanda's face. "What'd you get her?" Then, smirking, he answered his own question. "Instant Soba? 'Enjoy the tastes of Kanda's favorite food from home'."

"Shut up."

"No, seriously. What'd you get? I mean, you're going to make me replace it anyway. Might as well tell me."

A scowl, then silence.

Allen, thinking he wasn't going to say, started walking again. At the same time, he pulled out a bag of jerky to console himself with this latest revelation.

"A Jade jewelry set."

The Brit paused, mouth open, about to bite into a piece of dried meat. "Isn't jade a symbol of health and strength?" A nod, and Allen continued, "What'd you get, exactly?"

"An earring for Lavi and a matching necklace for Lenalee."

"That's… actually kind of cool." As a reward for answering, Allen held out a piece of jerky to Kanda, who took it wordlessly.

"Of course," he agreed.

"Ok, well, there's no way we're going to find anything to replace that stuff before we get there. Any ideas?"

"Not my problem – you lost it, you replace it."

Allen scrubbed his face with his hands. "Could you, like, not be a prick for two seconds?"

"Fuck you."

"Ok, fine, sorry. Just… Help me think of something we can get them that isn't going to cost me a month's rent."

Before any inspirational ideas could be aired aloud, a thundering boom sounded overhead.

Allen swallowed some more jerky, all three turning their gazes skyward. In the past half hour they'd been walking, the sky had apparently clouded over with heavy grey, dark clouds. So dark that it was a wonder none of them had noticed but was probably thanks to all the palm fronds overhead. Which were like the size of dinner plates.

"Oh man, I hope it doesn't-"

Before Allen could jinx their walk, rain fell from the sky.

Not just any rain. It was they heavy stuff, like someone upstairs was unending a bucket of water over the earth.

"Shit."

Allen could only grunt in agreement. Because, well, now his jerky was ruined. Which was just great.

He wasn't given a lot of time to morn, because with the soggy weather, Kanda was more anxious than ever to get the hell out of there. Timcanpy, whining, couldn't help but agree. Unfortunately, with no real place in mind, the three of them ended up running aimlessly down the road, in the rain, for several minutes before coming across a busy town.

Well, 'busy' might have been a bit of a stretch, but it was more crowded than the past five miles of endless two-lane highway had been.

It was an old town with a single main street (which they happened to be standing on), looking about ten years away from being enveloped by the surrounding forest. Despite the hazards of wildlife, numerous trucks lined the road, loaded down with fishing tackle or pulling a boat behind them. The rigs didn't look ocean-safe, so there had to be a lake somewhere nearby.

Allen and Kanda ducked under the first awning they came across. It covered the windows belonging to a quaint diner, cement sidewalk beneath them already turning dark with rain. The two adults took a few seconds to appreciate how thoroughly drenched their clothes were before Kanda scowled, wrung out his pony tail, and stepped inside.

Since dogs weren't allowed – and Allen suspected a wet dog wouldn't be any better – he planted them at one of the rickety iron tables out front.

Despite how wet he was, Allen wasn't actually cold. Probably because Florida was so humid and warm to begin with, not to mention the absence of any wind. It was actually a nice change from the freezing borderline ice-like rain of the northeast, but thanks to the humidity, it would probably take the whole walk back to the car before he dried off.

"Can ah get you somethin' to drink?"

Allen almost jumped when a pregnant woman in a pink dress stepped out from the diner with a notepad. She was far less startled, taking her soggy customers in with an impassive glance.

"Um…" Well, Kanda did have the cash, but… Jesus, he was hungry. Probably the stress. Surely he deserved something better than half-wet jerky, right?

By the time Kanda came back outside, Allen had ordered for three. And a small portion for Kanda, since he figured they guy would be a little peckish.

"Did you find a mechanic?"

Before the Japanese man could answer, the waitress returned with bath towels she'd scrounged up from somewhere. "Here ya go. You folks look kinda cold. Oh, your orders should be up in a bit."

The white-haired adult took the proffered materials with a smile, handing one to Kanda. The woman had just vanished back inside when a pair of glaring sapphire eyes pinned him to the chair. "What order?"

"Lunch! Don't worry, I took the liberty of getting something for you. And if you don't want it, I'll just eat it and you can get something else."

"This isn't a picnic," Sour Puss corrected with his trademark disdain.

"Obviously. We don't have to do the dishes or make the food. Nice, right?" He grinned, completely ignoring Kanda's point. "Besides, I'm guessing the mechanic's going to be a bit. And unless you want crumbs in your car, this'll be a mutually beneficial for both of us. Kind of like…"

"Parasites."

"Parasites are hazardous to the host," Allen corrected with a jerky piece. "We're more like symbiotes."

"Keep tellin' yourself that."

"Anyway," he munched, breezing passed the insult, "When's the mechanic coming?"

A _tsk_ as the other sat down, ringing his hair out with the bath towel. "He'll pick us up in an hour."

Allen was just about to thank the other for finding someone who would not only fix the car, but also pick them up, when he noticed how wet Kanda was.

Since he'd never seen the guy swimming or at the gym showers (thanks to the other's sadistic schedule), this was the first time Allen had actually seen him so wet. Not sweat-drenched, but actually wet, clothes shucked onto his body, skin glistening with dripping water.

He wasn't the only one paying attention. A row of tables sat just inside the diner front, a few of the female customers openly ogling the Japanese man through the glass. They weren't staring at Allen, but that was probably because he'd swaddled himself in the towel like a drenched puppy. Unlike the other, who was systematically wiping himself down, shaking his head, wiping his ears, arching his back. In very… potentially suggestive ways.

If the person's mind was prone to thinking that way. Not that Allen's was.

Kanda's dark bangs were the only thing so far that had the vigorous drying. The white-haired adult was about to say something when a drop of water made its escape. It was a little mesmerizing to watch the droplet run down Kanda's tanned forehead, following the contours of his lean cheek, sharp jaw, and finally under. The glistening trail went to gravity's call down Kanda's lean, smooth neck, catching the light when he turned his head to the side, droplet continuing its path across collar bones, finally vanishing beneath a tight, dark shirt. Seriously tight.

"What?" Kanda snapped.

Allen almost jumped. Almost, because it was only considered jumping if feet left the ground. "Um, uh, I was just… What're you doing?"

Kanda ignored him as he yanked his shirt off in one swift motion.

If people hadn't been staring before, they definitely staring now.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, voicing the thoughts of the thirteen women and one man also paying attention.

Kanda scowled, completely shameless as he dried off his chest with wide, circular motions. That accomplished, he began wringing out his shirt over the side of the porch. Still half-naked, hair still sticking to his skin.

Allen… could not stop staring. It was physically impossible to look away. Which he told himself was just admiration. Because Kanda was seriously sculpted. Not a body-builder, but a fighter, with a slender waist, hints of ab muscles, and a chest that was firm enough to bounce a quarter on.

He finally regained his mental faculties when Kanda shrugged the half-dry shirt back on. Allen ignored the hint of disappointment, mixed with relief. The fabric didn't cling as tightly as before, and Kanda was wearing an unusually satisfied expression. Probably because he felt like he'd just kicked mother nature's ass.

Still, Allen couldn't stop the unbidden thought: _I wonder what else would satisfy him._

No, stop! Brain, stop!

"What the fuck are you doing?" Kanda asked, sounding maybe concerned as he watched Allen hide his face behind the towel.

"Uh… never mind. I was just saying that, um, maybe we…" He trailed off, gaze caught on some not-so-drenched shoppers across the street.

Kanda, properly dressed, followed the Brit's gaze.

Three men were unloading a few bags from their beat-up burgundy sedan. One of them trailed ahead, going into a pawn shop. The visitors didn't look particularly spectacular, chattering on about something the two adults couldn't hear through the rain, but… something seemed familiar about them. It nagged at the back of his brain.

A second later, he noticed a ruby-red suit hanging out of one of the bags.

"Are those…"

"The clown robbers," Allen confirmed, tone loaded with enough disdain to make Timcanpy nervous. Not that the dog needed help – he was already sitting at attention, sites narrowed in on the offending thieves with a very low growl.

"That's right, Tim," the white-haired adult encouraged. "Sic'em."

Neither adult made the usual remarks when faced with law-breakers. Allen didn't say anything about going to get the cops, nor did he comment when Kanda hefted Mugen with a murderous aura. An aura so strong that the waitress, who'd been coming out with their food, promptly went back inside.

Kanda, likewise, didn't bother with any threats. It was clear enough what needed to be done. And both were willing to go the extra mile to do it.

Even Timcanpy was ready to kick some clown-robber ass.

Only, before they did so, Allen poked his head back inside the diner with, "Can we take that to-go?"

**XXXXX**

Catching the clowns by surprise was laughably easy. Which Allen found very ironic.

The three robbers were more than surprised when Allen and Kanda, their previous victims, strolled into the pawn shop, vicious attack dog at their side.

At least, that's why he figured they looked afraid. In reality, it probably had to do with the three-foot blade Kanda wielded like he was about to go Kitchen Wars on the nearest volunteer.

"So, I guess you know why we're here."

Much like the stand-off at the O.K. Corral, the two parties stared each other down, one waiting for the other to flinch. In Kanda's case, his weapon was already drawn, but Allen could see indecision from the opposition as the pseudo-clowns seemed itching to have a weapon in hand. The pawn broker, much like the innocent civilians of that famed stand-off, shifted his gaze between the two parties with a wary eye.

"We do," Bert, the taller and meatier clown, affirmed.

Despite their initial shock, the bandits had overcome their fear in place of defending their loot.

"Hand it over. All of it," Allen ordered with all the confidence of a 18th century gunslinger.

"Don't got it anymore," Bert answered in a gruff voice. "Pawned it already."

Their brave front vanished as Kanda not-so-casually whipped his sword through the air, barely avoiding slicing a buzzing fly in half.

"How about this," Allen drawled, rooting around in his pockets. "I'll give you a chance to keep everything. If you can beat me in a game."

Suspecting a trap, Bert narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What game?"

"Texas hold'em," The Brit announced. Then, meeting the eyes of the near-terrified store clerk, asked, "mind if we use your counter?"

He seemed about to turn him down… until he saw Kanda.

"Sure! Sure, sure, all yours!"

It was easy to lull the clowns into a false sense of security as jelly bean after jelly bean passed out of Allen's pile and over to the three clowns. Kanda waited patiently, dissuading any pawn-broker customers from their side of the store with a single glance. Allen, Bert, and the two henchmen clowns played round after round.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the tables turned.

And kept turning until the clowns had nothing left to bet with. Literally nothing, since at one point they'd got so desperate that they'd resorted to strip poker. Something that prolonged the game but also left the two adults with a sight they'd never be able to unsee but wish they could.

"Pleasure doing business," Allen managed to grin, purposely avoiding Bert's hairy shoulders and man-gut, exposed for all to see in the near paper-thin undershirt.

The shorter one, Oliver, was just about to hand over the bags when Bert reached for his weapon (somehow he'd managed to keep it hidden in the remains of his clothes).

Only, before he could finish drawing the gun, Kanda had a sword to his throat. "Drop it."

He did, the weapon hitting the floor with a squeak.

_Squeak?_

Allen bent down to inspect it, Timcanpy sniffing the weapon curiously.

"Bullshit."

"What?" Kanda asked, eyes still trained dangerously on their opponents.

The white-haired adult hefted the weapon. Pointed it at Bert. And fired.

Nothing happened. At least, nothing deadly. The only thing that shot from the gun was a spray of water that landed on Bert's shirt, followed by an automated honking tune from within the plastic gun.

"Fucking hell," Kanda exploded, now looking mere seconds away from decapitating the clown robbers.

"Hey, hey, easy there!" Oliver whined, apparently mustering the last of his brave energies to keep the murderous Japanese swordsman at bay. "I-it was just a prank! Never meant to hurt anyone! Honest!"

Allen was pretty sure they'd be making a trip to the station – this time for disturbing the peace, manslaughter, and illegal gambling, forget arresting the clowns – until their mechanic's truck pulled up on the street outside.

"Do it again, and I'll be back," was Kanda's dire warning, urge to fix his car winning over his urge to kill the clowns.

Still, he couldn't resist drawing his blade back so fast it clipped off part of Bert's shaggy gray locks. With that, he stormed out. Allen, stolen items in hand (and the clown's clothes), followed behind.

It had stopped raining outside, which was great. And, bonus, the diner had packaged their lunch into to-go containers so Allen could take it for the road. Although he was having a hard time carrying it all, but… whatever. He could feed some to Tim if the load got too big.

Ten minutes of discussing between Kanda and the mechanic, getting a smelly wet dog into the back of the tow truck (which for some reason made Kanda lose his appetite), and the four were puttering back down the road.

"You know, despite the car breaking down," Allen said between bites of fries, "This has been a pretty successful stop. I mean, I got lunch, you got revenge, and we both got our clothes back. All's well that ends well."

A hum was Kanda's only answer, Allen continuing, "And we're making good time. Lavi's bachelor party isn't until, what, seven? That's like… eight hours from now. And we've got maybe five hours of driving left."

Another bite of hamburger, fries, hamburger, then, "With any luck, we'll get the car fixed and be out of here in an hour. I mean, it's pretty new, right? Shouldn't need much work."

"Unlike someone's bike."

Fortunately for Kanda, Allen was too high on calories to kick his ass for that snide comment. Which he could totally do, by the way. Just, maybe after eating.

"I think you're gonna need more than ah mechanic ta` fix that, boys," the mechanic drawled from the front.

Allen, who'd been busy looking for the other packet of fries, took a second to process the driver's words.

"I'm sorry?"

"Ah think you're gonna need a dealership."

It was only when Allen popped his head over the console that he saw the problem.

Oh shit.

Looking at the scene, information from (yet another) discovery channel episode filed through his brain like words on a teleprompter. Spanish moss – that grey weed-looking stuff hanging from branches – could get incredibly dense. Sometimes this would lead to insects living inside, but more often than not, it concentrated a lot of rain water. A lot of water that would magnify the weight of the moss, dragging down whatever it was attached to. Sometimes the moss could even tilting whole trees over because of how much weight it gathered.

Allen knew this. Logically. But somehow, seeing the devastation in person was far worse than seeing it on the TV.

A bundle of water-logged Spanish moss had snapped a branch off. The branch, in turn, fell to the ground.

Only for Kanda's car to break its fall.

The mechanic was right. He wouldn't be able to fix this. Assuming it was fixable at all.

The human-sized log had landed right on the hood of the dark sedan, causing both ends of the hood flip up like a piece of wax catching rain water. Only in this case, the car had caught a hell of a lot more than water. Even from this distance, it was clear the engine was completely demolished.

Kanda didn't look much better.

Allen had never seen him look so devastated. Usually, his expressions fluctuated between annoyed, furious, or indifferent. Sometimes a splash of agitation or mocking disdain mixed in in to the usual palate of angriness.

This expression was completely new. Wide eyes, parted mouth, twitching eyebrow. As if he couldn't decide if he was about to go on a murderous rampage with Mugen or just cry.

"It'll be fine," Allen tried to assure, resting a hand on Kanda's shoulder with, "Look on the bright side – I won't have to pay to fix the dent in the back."

Nope, never mind. Enraged. He was definitely enraged.

Allen withdrew his hand, flinching like he'd touched a hot stove. Because Kanda's eyes said it all.

He was dead. So dead.

So much for Florida being a nice place to visit.

* * *

**Florida Keys: 5 hours**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Let me know what you think in a comment if you have time. Otherwise, I'll see you in the next update. Thanks for reading and Happy Thanksgiving (for those of you who are reading in America)!


	7. Safety First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably all be done in the next few days - I've got some other DGray fics I'm thinking about and want to try... but no promises O_o

The worst had come to pass.

It was gone.

Kanda had no words. There was just… silence. This eerie echo inside his mind. Everything seemed so far away, the words and sounds from the outside world passing over him like some out-of-body experience.

His car. His second love.

Was… totaled.

The image of that tree branch collapsed on his trunk, metal bent up at both sides, remains of the engine exposed, was etched in his brain like an after-image from a too-bright lightbulb. It didn't take a mechanic, Moyashi's alleged vehicle experience, or even the insurance representative to tell him it was wrecked beyond use. Never to work or be the same again until several months in the mechanic's (or whatever passed for a mechanic in the ass-crack middle of Florida).

Said insurance representative and mechanic assured him no one was at fault. A freak accident of the weather. Just one more thing that happened no matter what part of the world you lived in. Insurance would cover it. No reason to be upset.

Fuck that.

In the span of two days, he'd been robbed, scared shitless, and lost his second-most valuable possession. All three things that had never happened, not once, in his twenty-three years on Planet Earth.

The last two days had one thing in common.

Allen Walker.

Moyashi was a walking bad-luck charm. Since day one, he'd managed to not only pawn his mangy golden carpet onto Kanda's plans, but also insinuate himself into every aspect of the road trip. At which point, inevitably, the Brit managed to ruin them. Hell, he'd even managed to recreate his infamous vehicle break-down, only this time performed on Kanda's innocent baby sedan. Made worse by the so-called 'freak' weather phenomena that allegedly plagued most of the south east.

No one's fault? Bullshit.

All Kanda wanted was to sit and stew in his own silent rage. Until, hopefully, he no longer felt like killing anyone who so much as opened their mouths (normally not a problem, but he wasn't very familiar with the local law enforcement and didn't feel like being stuck in the Swamp State any longer than necessary).

That's what he wanted. But as usual, that didn't last.

"Kanda, relax. We'll figure this- ow, ow, ow!"

"Shut. Up." Kanda growled, twisting the other man's finger until he backed up another five feet.

"Hey, listen, we'll figure something out."

"Unless that means finding a time machine and going back to save my car, not interested," he managed to hiss, glaring Allen into the ground.

Moyashi winced, hands held in surrender. "Ok, yeah, that's… but we need to get back on the road."

Fuck that.

The two were stuck in the middle of the same town they'd started in, parked on the sidewalk next to the only available bus stop for fifty miles. Allen was weighed down with their recovered items, Timcanpy was enjoying sniffing out the local wildlife, and Kanda's jeans still hadn't dried.

He was done.

"Wait! Wait up, Bakanda!"

Allen, arms full and jingling behind him, managed to catch up as the Japanese man stalked down the sidewalk. "Bus'll be here in fifteen. And unless you plan on walking the remaining 500 miles, we need to stick with this."

"'We'?" Kanda snapped, not bothering to do as instructed.

Moyashi continued, "Just sit down. Or… stand, or whatever, but stay here, Ok?" Kanda leveled him with a long, deadly look, and eventually the Brit caved. "Fine. Just… be back soon. Or else-"

Before he could finish, a hiss of tires and a beeping door alerted both travelers to the arrival of the famed Greyhound Bus.

It was hard to tell if Allen sighed in relief or apprehension. Probably the latter, since it was more than obvious the thought of sitting in a thirty-foot tin vehicle with Kanda's rage as his companion was less than appealing at the best of times. As was further evident when he crossed over to the bus with all the joy of an inmate to his sentencing hearing.

Kanda didn't want to do it. He really, really didn't want to do it.

So far, the trip had ended in nothing but disaster. And what did he have to show for it? Jack shit.

"-da. Kanda. Kanda!"

He started when a white face appeared in his vision. A white face with even whiter hair and a stark red scar over his left eye.

Allen looked unusually… serious. Kanda hadn't seen him look like that since finals junior year after he'd almost failed precalculus.

The Brit made a point to meet his gaze before saying, "Lenalee is like our sister, Kanda. Hate me however you want, but if you miss this wedding, you'll hate yourself for years."

That…

Was true. He really did hate the Moyashi.

But…

Lenalee. Annoying Usagi. Wedding of a lifetime.

Kanda had his priorities, god damn it. And never be said that he put aside a trip planned three weeks in advance just because of a little weather trouble. That totaled car.

Yet, looking at a particularly irritated pair of grey eyes, he found himself thinking there was an exception to every rule.

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to keep traveling with Allen. Unless the other was in a body bag - a dream Kanda was five seconds away from making a reality.

That was, until he recalled the conversation he'd had with Lenalee three months ago.

_"Hey Kanda!"_

_The Japanese man, who'd just finished conversing with Daisya about birthday presents for Tiedoll (a conversation that had put him in a less than reasonable mood) merely grunted. Because, coupling his headache with the cheery tone in Lenalee's voice, he was starting to regret ever picking up the phone._

_"Guess what - Lavi and I are getting married!"_

_"I know that." The stupid Usagi had certainly taken his sweet-ass time proposing. So long, in fact, that Lenalee had ended up proposing first. An event Kanda was still lording over Lavi's head.  
_

_Lenalee chuckled at his tone. "Yeah, but we've finally set a date - it's in March!"_

_"March. In Boston."_

_"It's not in Boston. Lavi's taking me to the Florida Keys. Well, Bookman, technically, but it was his idea. And god was it a good one - after all this snow, I could use some sunshine. But don't worry - it's right after your Japanese trip, so you'll be able to come. I made sure."_

_Kanda had quit paying attention about halfway through. Because... Florida. He was in Canada. That was... far. It would take him a week, at least. He hadn't been that far away from home since moving to Canada five years ago. There was his Japanese trip, but that was only every couple of years._

_He hadn't been that far away from Alma in five years._

_"...Kanda?"_

_The Japanese man realized several seconds had passed and he hadn't replied. "I haven't been that far away since..." he found himself saying, trying to voice what he couldn't quite explain._

_Lenalee was silent, knowing better than most what was holding him back. "I'm sorry," came her soft, sincere voice. "I didn't think."_

_Kanda frowned, torn between irritation at her tone and irritation at himself for worrying her.  
_

_"I understand if you don't want to come," she finally said, voice so soft and dejected he was briefly reminded of a kicked kitten. "But... you're my best friend, Kanda. Practically my brother - but don't tell Komui I think that or he'll get jealous," she mock-whispered. "It would mean so much to me if you came. I really... it wouldn't be the same without you."_

_And just like that, he felt like the biggest ass since Allen Walker had been born._

_"Fuck, fine. I'll be there."_

_"Yay!" Lenalee cheered so loud, Kanda winced. "Driving or flying?"_

_"Not sure."_

_"Well, either way, keep me updated. Oh, and I'll send you a tracker app to download - that way if anything happens I can find you."_

_Kanda didn't bother holding in an eye-roll. "Whatever."_

_"Thank you, Kanda, I'm so happy. Love you!"_

Kanda was jarred back to reality by the beeping doors of the greyhound bus. The southern sun was in his eyes, the Moyashi was waiting, and Lenalee's wedding was in forty-eight hours.

God damn it. He had to go, didn't he?

"I'm still pissed off," Kanda felt the need to growl.

Allen rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I kind of noticed. Come on. Let's get this road trip back on the road. Tim?"

**XXXXX**

The bus was only moderately full with every other seat occupied. Despite that, the three of them ended up sharing the same bench. Kanda, for once, didn't blame the Moyashi at the lack of privacy. Honestly, he was trying to mediate and calm some of his nerves before the bachelor party. Not that the crying five-year-old and chatty grandmother in the back were helping, but the earbuds helped.

After about a half an hour, the Japanese ended up against the window, suddenly overcome with exhaustion. Timcanpy, the buffer between the two travel companions, sat in the middle seat, giving off a warm heat that made Kanda feel even more snug in his still-damp clothing.

Tim was also using his seated position to spy on the other passengers. Not unlike his owner who, despite not having access to the window seat, managed to see just about every arguably scenic and not-so scenic view they passed. Which he didn't mind telling the neighboring five-year-old in great detail.

Soon, Kanda was lulled to sleep by the soft motions of the bus, filtered sunlight through the windows, and the even tones of Allen's slightly raspy voice. The kid across the aisle had also calmed down – when they boarded the bus he'd been bouncing in his seat, too bored for his mom to do much anymore, but Allen's conversation seemed to keep his attention.

_Allen would be a great dad someday._

…

What the fuck?

He was tired. Had to be.

And it was shortly after that disturbing thought that he fell asleep.

**XXXXX**

Allen managed to spend a few hours in peaceful silence, Kanda napping, Timcanpy enjoying the ride, and the Brit chatting up the fellow passengers.

Everything was fine. For three hours.

"Everyone off the bus!" called the driver – a middle-aged man in the process of waving most of the occupants towards the now-open bus doors. "Off, off! Ma'am, don't forget yer bag, there."

"What's going on?" The Brit asked, having been too engrossed in his conversation with the almost-six-year-old to pay attention to anything besides I-Spy.

"Some kinda mechanical problem," the driver explained, bus listing when the heavy-set man tromped down the aisle to make sure no one forgot anything. "Need to stop at a mechanics to get it checked out. Best we stop early for the night."

What was it with this trip and vehicle failures?

Kanda, who'd woken from his nap, shot Allen a non-too subtle glare. Even without words, it was easy to understand he suspected Allen of sabotaging yet another vehicle through his Psionic Powers of Evilness.

Whatever.

Five minutes later, the merry band of travelers and their duffel bags of items found themselves on the sidewalk, watching the other passengers milling down the block to the closest motel.

Now what? Another ride. Shot. They had to be there in... God, three hours? It was already five. That was the only Grayhound for miles. He still had to-

"What the- Bakanda!" Allen called, noticing the Japanese man was halfway across the street. Either not caring or not noticing the thirty-mile-an-hour cars passing around him. 

When it was clear the other wasn't waiting, the Brit shouldered his bags, waited for a break in traffic, and followed, Timcanpy at his heels.

"Where the hell are you going?" he gasped, finally catching up to the other at the next street corner.

"To find us another ride," Kanda snapped back.

"Where? Did you manage to check the Greyhoud bus routes when I wasn't looking?" The trio continued past the busy road, down a narrow, paved road.

"I didn't say we'd take a bus." 

"Then what are you…"

Allen trailed off, nearly running into Kanda as he spotted it.

"No."

The Japanese man rolled his eyes. "Since you've tanked the last three rides, you have no room to complain."

"It wasn't me!" Allen whined like a toddler accused of drawing on the walls. "Dude, this was not my- wait, that's not the point. The point is Tim gets motion-sick. We're not getting on _that_."

Kanda had - finally - taken Allen to the beach, complete with seagulls cawing overhead and salty smells lingering in the air. Only, there wasn't any sand. Mostly because the shoreline was covered in ships. Dozens of ships parked by vacationers and locals alike.

But Kanda didn't stop there. No, he continued down the docks towards the tourist part of town where cobbled beach walks stretched before blocks of shopping and restaurants.

Allen noticed everything with a passing glance. Mostly because he was too focused on the monstrosity before his eyes.

Kanda's plan for getting to the bachelor party on time relied on a boat.

Not just any boat. A cruise ship. Which was like the size of the White House.

Allen opened his mouth to say just that - because, _no_ \- when a pair of determined sapphire eyes met his. Sapphire eyes tempered by the loss of his car and putting up with all the craziness of the last two days. Not to mention Kanda was armed - a combination that did not mean good things for those testing his patience.

All the protests died in the Brit's throat.

"Fine," Allen found himself agreeing, "But leave the talking to me. And keep that sword out of sight. Last thing I want to do is land in jail."

Kanda didn't say anything, marching down the pier with all the determination of Legolas off to slay an orc. A Legolas whose menace was tampered some by the slobbery sword hanging off his back. Points to Timcanpy who was currently making a valiant effort to pull Mugen straight off of Kanda's duffel before he noticed.

Allen groaned, shouldering his bag and following behind.

**XXXXX**

Allen did end up getting them passage on the boat- er, ship. After explaining their dire situation to the stewardess, the young lady had no problem charging them a small fee and letting them mill around on deck until the got to Key Largo.

Even if it'd been Kanda's idea, they both knew Allen could buy binkies off of babies; Getting a three-hour ride on a cruise ship was small potatoes by comparison.

They didn't have a place to store their luggage, but the deck was surprisingly vacant since it was close to the dinner hour, leaving several lounge chairs for Allen to throw their things on. Very nice lounge chairs with cushy pillows and a view of the newly-varnished deck, so shiny the sun was almost blinding when it reflected off the floor.

Allen still managed to enjoy it, reclined on a royal blue chaise lounge with his hands behind his head. The sun was at their shoulders, casting Kanda's face in shadows as he leaned against the railing. Tim, who wasn't as seasick as Allen had expected, was napping at the Brit's feet, watching some mini-poodle further down the deck.

Allen sent Lenalee a quick text, letting her know about the change in travel plans and making sure they'd have a ride once they got to the other end. Which was great, since Allen's small pile of cash was barely going to have enough left for the hotel reservation. Forget cab fare. Or dinner.

Hopefully there'd be food at the bachelor party.

The two of them fell into an ensuing silence. Not an uncomfortable silence. Actually, the first one of the trip that was actually… calming.

Allen couldn't stop staring at his friend. Frenemy? Bestie? Acquaintance? None of them seemed quite right.

Staring at whatever-he-was Kanda, all he could think was that… by the end of the week, Kanda would be gone.

He'd go back to Canada. Allen would be back in Maine. The two of them wouldn't see each other again until the next holiday, which was… six months away, at least. And that was assuming Lavi and Lenalee ever got back from their honeymoon.

It was just… well, despite all the problems, the arguments, the headaches… the past few days traveling had actually be kind of…

'Nice' wasn't the word. Maybe, familiar? Nostalgic?

When they were in high school together, it had been Lavi, Lenalee, Kanda, and Allen - sometimes Tim - together all the time. Then the two of them, when Lavi and Lenalee started dating. After that, Alma had transferred into school. And then… _that_ happened, and Kanda moved to Canada.

And that was it.

Would it go back to the same as before? Kanda and Allen never speaking unless Lenalee (sometimes literally) had to twist an arm to get them together?

The white-haired adult didn't want that.

He opened his mouth to say something along those lines. Instead what came out was, "So, you really think I've got some kind of bad-luck thing? Just wondering. I can start keeping my hands to myself if you want."

Did that sound... suggestive? Or was it just Allen?

Apparently it was just Allen. Kanda didn't even dignify him with a look much less pick up on the questionable subtext, head turned into the wind like some kind of posing model. A very fit model, actually, which that wind-swept shirt was doing an awesome job showcasing.

"Everything you've touched in the past three days has broken down. You tell me."

"Hey, that was just circumstances. It had nothing to do with me. I'm not the problem." A snort of disagreement.

Allen could have dropped it there, and probably should have, but he was feeling... restless. For some reason. And since subtly wasn't working, the Brit upped his game. "Come here. Let me touch you and we can see what happens."

Kanda finally looked at him, eyes sparking with what may have been the fading sunlight or... something else. "As if."

Allen smirked. "Afraid?"

"Of what? A beansprout?"

That was a low blow.

Before Allen could snap something back, or maybe just cross the distance on his own, their attention was drawn to the prow of the ship. More importantly, a high-pitched laugh belonging to some nameless kid. A laugh that turned into an exclamation of dismay.

Kanda could see the front of the ship better than Allen could, thanks to his position, which was probably why his brows pinched in concern. After a few seconds, the Brit realized why as a red balloon, caught in the wind, blew towards them, hanging a few feet out over the water as if about to be carried out to sea.

Kanda, in all his strong glory, lunged for the balloon.

It was in that same moment that a huge swell rushed under the ship, lifting Kanda higher into the air before falling back into the waves with a slam.

The sudden rocking motion upset Kanda's center of gravity.

Pitching him over the side of the ship.

Into the water.

...

_Fuck._

_He can't swim, he can't swim, he can't swim-_ repeated in Allen's head like a mantra. Which was why the Brit didn't think before grabbing the nearest flotation device and jumping overboard.

Allen hit the water with a heavy splash, the momentary free fall tapered by the sudden lukewarm waves.

The waves were stronger than he'd expected, Allen's initial shout drowned out by seawater rushing into his mouth. Fortunately, thanks to a year on the swim team and the flotation device in his hands, the Brit surfaced quickly.

Kanda hadn't drifted far. Although, for someone who couldn't swim, he was doing an impressive job staying afloat, dark head bobbing in the waves like a Japanese man-shaped dingy. Allen tried to breathe and not drown as he navigated the swelling ocean.

Kanda grabbed onto the circular flotation device with a wet cough and a tight grip. Allen, opposite, panted for air as the salty waves continued to bat at his body.

It was only after he was sure Kanda wasn't about to fall back in and drown that he turned, searching for the rope attached to the red rubber flotation circle. A rope that was also attached to the ship, used to pull them back in.

Only... he hadn't tied the rope to the ship. Instead, it was left dragging behind them in the waves - lost from its moorings. And unable to reel them in.

Shit.

It was with that final thought that Allen watched Timcanpy's barking figure slowly grow smaller and smaller, no one coming to the deck or sounding an alarm for men overboard.

"Hey! Over here!"

Nothing.

Despite Allen's hand-waving and groggy shouting, the cruise liner continued to fade towards the horizon, Timcanpy's figure on the deck growing to the size of a pin-head as Allen and Kanda continued to bob in the waves.

He couldn't even say it wasn't his fault. Because… it totally was.

But to be fair, if Kanda hadn't gotten himself pitched overboard, they wouldn't be in this mess to begin with.

Allen was about to say just as much out loud when he was faced with a glare that could scare the spots off of puppies. A pretty impressive glare, considering the both of them were bobbing about in the water like a pair of drowned rats.

Allen's mouth closed with an audible click.

Needless to say, he hoped they were rescued as soon as bloody possible.

* * *

**Key Largo: 3 hours(?)**

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by one of the latest issues of Takane and Hana. If you haven't read the series, check it out! But buy the official versions for the really hilarious translations if you can.
> 
> Thanks to all those who kudoed and commented! I love hearing from you guys and it makes my day every time - really keeps my writing motivation rolling... so thank you again!


	8. When in Doubt, Consult the Locals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this is the 2nd to last chapter. I'm kind of sad, but I love the way the story ends - I think you guys will too.
> 
> Thanks for reading this so far - I hope it makes you smile.

"Any idea what time it is?"

Kanda leveled him a look. "Late."

As much as Allen despaired, he couldn't really argue with that.

No matter the exact time, they'd been out in the water what felt like forever, bobbing about in the ocean waves like a pair of… well, abandoned sailors. The sun had moved from a 150 degree angle in the sky to almost 180, rays of golds, pinks, and purples spreading into a cerulean dome, traces of stars appearing at the other end.

The cruise ship was long gone. There was no land in sight.

In other words, they were screwed.

But at least Kanda was talking to him. Which was… good.

"Why… d… t?"

"What?"

Kanda scowled as another waved lapped at his neck, pony tail trailing in the water behind him. Allen could just make out his face with the setting sun at Kanda's back, most of his features in shadow. "Why did you do it?"

It took Allen a beat to figure out he was talking about the botched rescue attempt. "You can't swim."

That scowl, if possible, grew more pronounced, shadows increasing beneath his cheeks. "How the hell do you know that?"

To say, or not to say?

One look at Kanda's dark eyes, and Allen knew he wasn't letting it go. "I, uh, saw you and… uh, that one time you were in the river around camp." The Brit didn't have to name the other person Kanda had been swimming with. They both knew there was only one person the dark-haired foreigner refused to talk about.

Kanda's eyes actually lost their glaring annoyance long enough to widen in surprise. Then he looked away, either finding something interesting on the horizon or not wanting Allen to see his face.

"Besides," the Brit continued, trying to lighten the mood. Or, as much as he could with the two of them recently adrift at sea, starving, and probably hours away from being eaten by sharks, "I'd hate for all of those expensive beauty products I bought to go to waste."

…And the scowl was back.

" _Tsk_. All you do is complain."

"All you do is make me buy stuff."

"If you wouldn't keep losing shit, you wouldn't be buying it," The other snapped.

"I thought we agreed that wasn't my fault."

"Who agreed? Tim?"

"God, you're cranky when you're hungry."

"Says the bottomless pit. You eat half the shit we buy."

"At least I leave you half."

"So, what, Tim and I each get a quarter?"

Allen opened his mouth to argue, but… well, that was actually a valid point.

And that was when Allen saw it.

At first, he figured it was a trick of his salt-eyed gaze. Only with some serious staring did he make out the dark mass towards the right.

"Bakanda."

"What," the other growled, trying and failing to spit all the sea water from his mouth.

"Do you see that?"

Sure enough, he did.

"Land," Allen announced with a sudden wave of relief.

Finally. Now his nightmares (day-mares?) of being eaten alive by some voracious sea creatures of the dark-eyed variety could be put to rest. And, hey, they wouldn't have to resort to cannibalism to survive until they were rescued (they didn't have straws and Allen was more than certain Kanda would win that fight).

Things were looking up.

It was with some intense leg-kicking, paddling, and helpful sea currents that the duo found themselves trudging through ocean waves and towards the plot of land. Just as the sky was fading into purples as the sun almost vanished beyond the horizon, Allen could feel sand beneath his feet. The real work was walking through the neck-deep water and towards the shore, first crawling out of the water at chest-height, knee-height, and then water splashing around their ankles as the duo finally – finally – surfaced from the waves.

Allen was so tired he almost face-planted right there in the sand. Actually, wait, he did do that, but gracefully. Sort of. Kanda wasn't far behind him.

For however long until the sun went down, the only sounds on the beach were the waves and heavy panting as the two adults tried to catch their breath.

"Where the hell are we?" Allen finally croaked out, gaining enough strength to flop back onto his back.

The stars were out. Which was kind of pretty – there were a lot more of them then he could see around Portland. And, hey, bonus, there was a full moon. Which was great because it was darker than shit without it.

"No idea," a deep voice at his left finally answered.

Then, suddenly struck with an idea, Allen bolted upright. Only to nearly throw up with how nauseous it made him.

He flinched when cool skin landed on his forehead. "We're dehydrated," came Kanda's low murmur. "And sunburned from being in the water."

Allen was barely paying attention, his idea taking up too much of his concentration. "Do you think we're on a deserted island?"

"We are not on a deserted island," Kanda snapped.

"But what if we are?"

"We aren't."

"Bakanda."

A small _tsk_ was his only answer. Once the Brit's head cleared, he could see the other only a few feet away from him, cheek bones almost glowing in the moonlight. His ponytail was still perfect as always – Kanda Physics in action.

"We'll look in the morning."

"For what?"

"Other people," Kanda growled, impatience getting the better of him.

"I'm hungry."

"No shit."

"There's got to be food here, right? I mean, I don't really want to eat you. You're, like, my best friend. Well, best frenemy? We haven't put a label on it, or anything, but that's – "

"Moyashi. Calm down."

And, as if that command sapped his remaining strength, Allen suddenly felt a pounding headache in his temples. Like a huge pressure was building. With a groan, his face fell into his hands, but even massaging his forehead didn't work.

Minutes or hours later, Allen finally looked up only to find Kanda digging out a moat in the sand. The moat encircled a small pile of wood, presumably collected from the palm and cypress forest at their backs.

"What are you doing?"

"Starting a fire."

"Why? It's not even cold."

He couldn't see the glare in the near-darkness but Allen could feel it. "It's also dark."

"Yeah, well, I'd also like to do some sleeping and I'm not sure that's going to help."

The next thing Allen felt was a heavy piece of sneaker collide with his chest. The Brit had a sneaking suspicion it was meant for his head, but either Kanda's aim was getting worse it was too dark to see his target.

A few seconds later, the Japanese man crouched down beside his small pile of driftwood. Over the smashing of the waves, the sound of metal striking metal could be heard. Allen, suffering through the dizziness, scooted over to the other's side in time to see a spark come forth, finally landing on a single twig.

Kanda, with practiced ease, cupped his hands around the flame and started blowing. Soon, the little flame spread down the twig and to the rest of the dry wood.

"How'd you do that?"

"You saw me do it."

"I _meant_ , Bakanda, how'd you know how to do that?"

A small beat of silence before he answered. "I go camping."

"And you take Golem with you? Jeez, no wonder that cat doesn't like to travel. What'd you do, pitch a tent and everything?" A sly smirk. "Or do you prefer all naturale? The leaves in your hair, dirt against your backs-"

"Finish that sentence and you're going back in the ocean."

An audible click as Allen's teeth clamped together.

The light mood was quickly sobered as he thought about Kanda's cat. Well, not Kanda's cat, but it reminded him of Tim, which reminded him the dog was still stuck on the cruise liner. Alone.

Actually, probably not alone anymore. The cruise ship would have docked hours ago. Lenalee would have arrived to pick them up, only to realize no one was there. Tim would find her. Probably. And then they'd send out the coast guard, looking for her two best friends.

Would they find them? When Allen and Kanda were stuck on some island, god knew where?

There couldn't be a lot of islands around Florida, right? Sure, he'd heard about the mangrove forests, but there weren't any mangroves around. How many plots of land could there be?

"Do you think we're going to be stuck here for a while? Like, a while, a while?" Allen asked, taking his soggy tennis shoes off and placing them by the fire.

Kanda, next to him, was looking stoic as always. His face was half aglow in the firelight before them, shadows over his eyes and neck, ponytail catching some in the breeze.

"Maybe."

"…'Maybe'? That's the best you got?"

Finally Kanda looked at him, putting even more of his expression in shadow. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know, something… I mean, you always have a plan! Why the hell do I have to do everything?"

"I thought we already established that you never do."

"What? Have a plan, or do anything?"

"Both." Then, before Allen could snap something back, Kanda continued in that deep lecture-y voice of his, "Tomorrow we'll build the fire up. It's too dark to look for more wood without getting hurt. While I do that, you'll look for some fresh water. There's got to be some somewhere in this place."

"…and then?"

"We wait."

"For what?"

"Someone to find us."

It wasn't the best of plans. Hell, it really didn't even count as a plan. But… it was better than nothing. And the way Kanda said it – determined, final, and leaving no room for argument – somehow made Allen calm down. Or as much as he could with a pounding headache, parched throat, and empty stomach.

It was going to be fine. Everything would work out. Somehow.

And it was there, feeling that he wasn't really alone, that Allen finally laid back in the sand to make use of the no-longer dark night.

But, well, he couldn't really get comfortable. Which was weird because he was freaking exhausted. Although the sand was seriously hard. And it was mostly his head that just…

Allen glanced at Kanda, still cross-legged beside the fire. Then at the sand. Then Kanda.

All it took was a little scooting before Allen had his head in Kanda's lap.

The Japanese man froze when the white-haired adult plopped down.

Allen was too tired and really didn't feel like moving, no matter how the Japanese man felt about it. And, as the seconds passed with the crackling fire, Kanda finally relaxed. His almost-dry jeans made a surprisingly good pillow beneath Allen's head. And even with the firelight in his face, the Brit fell asleep almost instantly.

**XXXXX**

By the time morning came around, the sun was rising. Allen noticed his clothes were dry at the same time his eyes popped open to see the fire was out. But even hungry, he didn't really want to move, mostly because he had a really nice pillow against his sunburned face. A pillow that was comfortable and warm. And… moving. Up, down. Up, down.

Kanda's chest. He was sleeping on Kanda's chest.

What the hell.

He didn't remember waking up or moving in the night. So… Kanda must have done that, right? Which kind of made sense – talk about awkward, sleeping with Allen perched on his thighs.

Anyway. Time to move.

Allen did, using all his willpower to suppress a grown as all the dizziness from the night before returned with a vengeance. Blinking through fuzzy morning drowsiness, he had just enough time to take in the brilliant Florida sunrise – the sky and ocean filled with pink and yellow as the sun peaked up over the ocean.

Kanda was still asleep.

It was the first time Allen had actually seen him sleeping on the whole trip. Actually, probably for the first time ever. As an early riser, the Japanese man had always been up before Allen. Now, in sleep, the permanent furrows above his nose were gone, frown usually residing on his mouth smoothed to peacefully parted lips.

It had been a while since Allen had seen him look like that.

The Brit, no longer thinking about the magnificent sunrise, sat there for an undetermined amount of time staring at the other sleeping.

That is, until Kanda finally woke up.

It didn't really occur to him that he'd been caught staring until Kanda… smiled. Or what passed as a smile for him, lips flat and not frowning. "Moyashi."

"Uh…"

"Your hair looks like shit."

What?

Allen ran rapid hands through ivory spikes that, Ok, might have felt like he'd stuck a finger in a light socket. Not to mention he'd lost his hair tie at some point. "Sorry, Bakanda, I forgot to pack a mirror before jumping over to save your ass."

The Japanese man smirked before rising with a flourish, dusting sand off his dark shirt and jeans like they hadn't spent the night sleeping together on the beach.

Allen paused long enough to slip his sneakers on before following into the forest.

"Bakanda."

"What."

"Come with me to find the water."

Kanda, who was in the midst of gathering his dried wood, didn't even look up. "No."

"Come on, this forest is thick." Proving his point, Allen batted away a palm-from the size of a dinner plate with his wrist. "Just come with me."

"I'm getting firewood. You're finding water."

"What do you want me to carry it in? My mouth? Drink something and then look for wood."

"Fuck off."

Allen grabbed his arm before the other could walk off. A very thick, muscly arm, actually. "If you're as dehydrated as me, let's just go together."

Kanda _tsk_ ed before an armful of firewood was dumped in Allen's arms. "We're bringing it with us."

"Why?" Allen whined, but took the firewood anyway. "It's, like, heavy, and I'm hungry."

"I'm not leaving it behind," the other growled, in the midst of navigating a bush up ahead.

"Oh, what, you had a hard time finding wood in a forest? Now's not really the time to be environmentally conscious, Bakanda."

"Dry wood is hard to find in the tropics. And like you are," the other snapped back, sapphire eyes glancing back over his back. A very toned back, actually, the shirt still clinging to him in places. "Who was more worried about littering fines than polluting the roadside?"

"Says the guy chucking beef sticks at crocodiles."

"Alligators," the other snapped.

Shit, he was right. "Same basic principle. Feeding native carnivores is a big no-no wherever you are."

"We're alive. Shut up."

"Sure, but for how long? What if that's… did you hear that?"

Kanda had froze too, having also obviously heard the rustling noise to their left. He was frowning in that direction, as if trying to decide if it was worth investigating.

"Probably a rabbit."

"A rabbit? In the tropics? How long _have_ you been in Canada?"

"Long enough to know how to start a fire."

 _Ugh._ "But maybe that's… there it was again."

Kanda rolled his eyes, parting the foliage before marching off towards the suspicious rustling noise. "Where are you going?"

"To investigate."

"But what if it's dangerous? If you die, I'll be stuck carrying this wood by myself."

Kanda snorted. "Afraid of the R.O.U.S.'s?"

"Rodents of unusual size? I don't think they exist. I'm just worried you'll trip on that enormous ego of yours."

"Go take another swim in the ocean and drown," Kanda growled.

"I've had enough water for one day, thanks."

The glare Kanda shot him suggested Allen reconsider. And for a moment, he almost did – Kanda could fall into quicksand for all he cared. See if he helped.

Only before any of them could make good on their threats, the noise started to get louder. It wasn't constant, but the occasional movement. Like whatever it was, it was coming closer. And it sounded large.

Finally, the bushes and cypress trees parted before the pair, revealing a trail head.

…

A trail head?

No, that was definitely man-made – wide enough for two pairs of boots and pruned from any weeds.

That was when they looked up to meet the eyes of a very surprised hiker.

"Well, at least we know the island's not deserted," Allen finally croaked out.

**XXXXX**

"Allen! Kanda! I'm so glad you're alright!"

The white-haired adult barely had time to see the owner of the voice before he and Kanda were tackled in a bear hug. Or maybe tackled by an actual bear – it was hard to see with the sudden spots clouding his vision.

"Lenalee. Air," he wheezed.

"Oh, right. Sorry," she jumped back, sheepish, but had yet to take her arms off their shoulders.

She was looking at them like… well, like she never thought they'd see each other again. Which… ok, maybe with Allen's survival skills, that was fair.

The Brit found himself grinning in turn at Lenalee's familiar deep eyes. In her evergreen tanktop and shorts, she was dressed for the warm humid day, light jacket slung over her shoulders. He couldn't help noticing that Lenalee looked surprisingly weary for someone whose wedding day was tomorrow - something in the circles beneath her eyes and the slight hunch to her shoulders.

"Hey, lil' buddy! Surprised we found you two at all," Lavi said, wide grin on his face as he ruffled Allen's ocean-dried hair. "Kind of expected Yuu to kill you first."

 _Yeah, me too_. "Is Tim Ok?"

Lavi's single green eye was still smiling at his two friends, hands in his jeans pockets. "He's back at the venue. Fo's keeping an eye on him."

After almost twenty-four hours waiting to see him, Allen supposed he could wait a little more.

Once they'd run into the hiker and the Brit had blurted out a rushed explanation for their presence in the middle of the forest, the hiker had gladly shared some of his water before showing them both the way back.

It turns out, they'd washed ashore on the far side of Biscayne National Park. Which was only forty minutes from Key Largo by car.

After getting back to the town, Allen had insisted on checking them both into a hospital in case they were suffering from any kind of heat stroke. At which point he managed to call Lenalee and update her on the situation. Twenty minutes of crying later, she hung up and promised to meet them at the hopsital. Both men were given a clean bill of health shortly after.

And that was how Allen and Kanda found themselves in the back seat of Lavi's rental jeep, puttering down the coastline at 10 in the morning.

"All your stuff's at the hotel," Lavi explained from the driver's seat. The jeep was open-cab, cool ocean air grabbing at their faces and forcing everyone to shout to be heard. "Got to warn ya, Tiedoll burst into tears when we broke the news 'bout you bein' found. You owe Marie a thanks or else he'd be the one driving you back."

Kanda, if possible, might have looked even more relieved then when they'd learned they weren't stranded forever. A grunt was still his only acknowledgement.

"How'd the bachelor party go?" Allen asked.

Lavi shrugged. "Didn't really end up having one."

Oh. Of course not. They were too busy worrying about Allen and Kanda.

Then the jeep stopped at a red light, giving the redhead a moment to glance back at Allen through long strands of ruby hair. "Wouldn't have been the same without you two there, know what I'm sayin'?"

And looking at the smiling, relieved faces of his friends and Kanda's expressionless face…

Yeah. Yeah, he did.

"And the rest of the wedding planning?" Allen asked.

Lenalee and Lavi exchanged a glance that was pretty telling. Kanda and Allen shared a look of their own before the white-haired adult asked, "What happened?"

The redhead took Lenalee's hand over the seat rest, engagement ring glinting in the sunlight as their hands entwined. "There've been some… disagreements over the food," he explained in a typical peace-keeping tone.

"Not just the food," the Chinese woman sighed. "The dress, the music, the honeymoon. Everything we try to do takes an act of congress. I just want to get married and live with you," she murmured to her fiancé. "The wedding's supposed to be for us."

Lavi gave her a soft smile, squeezing her hand briefly. "I know."

Sensing they didn't want to talk about it anymore and Allen too tired to keep a proper conversation, the rest of the ride fell into a lapse of comfortable silence.

At the hotel, Lenalee made sure the two got settled into their room while Lavi took care of the phone calls downstairs. She seemed to sense they were both tired and worn-out, promising to get some food delivered while the two took a much-needed shower.

Actually, looking at one of the two double beds, Allen thought a nap sounded a lot better.

Kanda saved him from making the decision by wordlessly claiming the bathroom for himself. And there was only one, since the two of them were sharing a room.

Nature of the beast, really – as the last ones to arrive, they got last pick of the room layout. Allen knew he should have a problem with the sleeping situation, but after the last three days of the two almost literally being joined at the hip (Lord knew Kanda's car was small enough), it didn't feel as irritating as he expected.

And after putting both of their phones onto charge and reclining on the bed, he soon realized the view was even better.

Hearing the bathroom door open, steam wafting into the main room, Allen started talking to the ceiling. "So I'm thinking since we'll be there at-"

Until he looked up. Because… "What are you doing?"

It was a valid question. Considering Kanda had just stepped out of the bathroom. In a towel.

 _Only_ a towel.

Which was doing a pretty shit job hiding anything above mid-thigh. Poorly tied around Kanda's waist, the white piece of fabric left everything above and below in plain view. That same strong chest, taught stomach, and firm thighs.

"I forgot my clothes."

_No shit._

Allen tore his gaze away from that slim body long enough to see the set of neatly folded items at the foot of the neighboring bed. Kanda stared at them, apparently considering something as his dark hair, freed from his usual pony tail, trailed water down his right shoulder. The left side of his neck was exposed to the air. A very smooth neck that was probably soft and tasted better than all the lollipops Allen had ever consumed. Of which there were a lot, by the way.

His perusal continued down the mostly-dry chest. Surprisingly attention-grabbing, even in profile, mostly because Kanda was just so… slim.

He was distracted from any further ogling by a knock on the hotel door. Since it was obvious the half-naked Kanda wasn't about to answer, Allen managed to drag his eyes away from tinted skin long enough to walk straight and actually work the door handle. Even if it took him three tries.

"Allen Walker?" The man asked, bags of something smelling good in his hands.

The Brit had to clear his throat before it would work. "Yeah."

The delivery man handed over the three large sacks of food.

Lenalee knew him well.

After finding some cash (if a little crinkly from the sea water), Allen gave the man his wanted tip before carting the delicious aromas back into the room.

Kanda, thank god, was fully dressed, seated at the table with a flat expression on his face. Which, now that Allen wasn't distracted, allowed him to focus on the piping-hot food gifted by the blessing that was Lenalee.

It was an assortment of meats and starches flavored with local island seasonings and sauces like coconut shrimp and teriyaki chicken (which Kanda reminded him was Japanese, not Floridian, but whatever Bakanda, it was made here, wasn't it?) that tasted like absolute heaven.

They'd consumed practically all of it, by which point Allen started noticing the tacky feeling of the dried salts on his skin. He was just polishing off some sweet potato fries when Kanda's phone chimed.

"What is it?" Allen asked, expecting some kind of message from Lenalee or maybe Tiedoll.

Kanda scowled at his screen. "A schedule change."

"For what?"

"My job in Montreal," he snapped with a look that clearly said it was none of Allen's business.

The Brit was only half paying attention.

Because… well, Kanda was right, it wasn't any of his business. But also because… two days from then, Kanda would be going back to Canada.

The last time Allen had been thinking about this, there was the cruise ship to distract him. Now, there was none of that. Nothing to keep him from thinking about the man – now maybe… something – who'd be gone in two days.

And just last night, Allen was prepared to spend the rest of their lives together on a deserted island.

Talk about whiplash.

Which was probably the only excuse Allen had for the words he said next.

"Are we still going to see each other after the wedding?"

Kanda might have frozen at the question but since he was so still to begin with, it was hard to tell. "I don't mean like 'see you at Lavi's Christmas party'. I mean like… hang out. Like we used to."

Like they used to in high school. _Before…_

Before Alma Karma died.

Kanda didn't say anything. And Allen, deciding it was better to have lived and died by Kanda's temper than not lived at all, ended up going, _fuck it,_ before meeting Kanda's gaze.

"God, as much as you piss me off most of the time, I missed you. Hell, I miss you. And I really don't want to go back to only talking once a year."

Kanda was looking at him, at least, but those dark eyes were completely unreadable. He still had that standard brow wrinkle which said jack shit because he always looked like that.

And if that didn't just piss Allen off.

"There, I said it, you idiotic prick. Surprise. Fine. Great. Good talk. I need a shower."

With that proclamation, the Brit shoved his chair back and stormed into the bathroom.

It was only once the door was closed and he was standing beneath the hot spray that Allen let the disappointment hit him.

And damn if it didn't make him even more nauseous than the sea water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EVERY TIME I hear or see Alma Karma's name I get Karma Chameleon stuck in my head (which is probably why his name isn't in this much XD). And yes, the circumstances of Alma's demise were left intentionally vague - this is more about Kanda and Allen than moving on from the past and it's just... sad and I don't like making people sad.
> 
> Sorry at the lack of bachelor-shenanigans. I wanted everyone to get arrested (haha) but I also wanted to roll into the ending, so... maybe next time *waggles eyebrows*
> 
> Let me know what you guys think in the comments! The last chapter will be out soon. And now onto YouTube for some Culture Club...


	9. Communication is Key

Allen didn't see Kanda until just before the wedding.

When he got out of the shower, the Japanese man was gone. After getting dressed and consulting his phone, Lavi informed the Brit that their friend was at the wedding venue getting soaked all over again by Tiedoll's relieved tears. By the time Allen found a ride over, Kanda was absent. So were Marie and the rest of Tiedoll's spawn, allegedly off on some brotherly bonding time.

Allen knew better. Kanda was avoiding him. And he wasn't being subtle about it.

Still, the Brit tried to move past the ever-growing sense of disappointment and frustration as he helped Lenalee get the wedding venue ready. Tim, much like Fo, Miranda, Reever, and Johnny, was thrilled to see him. And, ok, if there were a few teary eyes at that reunion, no one noticed. Mostly because Timcanpy's slobbery tongue left no face untouched.

Allen and Timcanpy made it back to the hotel before Kanda (Not that he was looking). Thankfully, after all the venue prep-work Lenalee had put him through, the adult was asleep almost immediately. When he got up the next morning, Kanda had already left; the only evidence he'd slept there at all were the wrinkled sheets in the opposite bed and the toothbrush on the bathroom counter.

Allen tried to put his worries and irritation behind him. Partly because he knew Lenalee could tell he was upset but also because there was reason to celebrate.

Lenalee and Lavi were getting married in a few hours. And they'd picked the best spot in all of Florida to do it.

The wedding was going to be outside at the (private) beach a stone's throw away. The small building they were decorating was for the reception and almost all of the windows looked out over that same ocean and trimmed cypress trees. Beige-wood covered both the floors of the building and the vaulted ceiling, windows framed in white stucco.

Sure, Bookman had his faults, but the man never did anything halfway. Including, it seemed, his own grandson's wedding.

It was beautiful. Probably expensive, but beautiful.

Timcanpy, however, didn't much care. Which was kind of a relief – at least one of them was acting normal.

The golden retriever had become quite the party guest. He had no problems escorting caterers and party-goers to their destinations, doing a pretty admirable job staying out from under foot. Eventually he got tired of making the waiters giggle at his cuteness, taking up shop by a pregnant Miranda. Who, on Lenalee and Fo's order, had been relegated to sitting down by the wall of windows. Which she didn't seem to mind since the view was so great.

And sure. Everything was beautiful. Everything was great. His friends were getting married, their family was all there.

But Allen... couldn't stop thinking about the previous day.

Which was annoying as hell.

Kanda had rejected him. It was obvious. Not with words, but with that non-committal silence he was known for. Surely the Japanese man, who seemed to have some allergy to friendly emotions, didn't want to see Allen ever again. Hell, the Brit would be lucky if Kanda bothered to show up at Lenalee's over the holidays; No doubt Allen had just been scratched off the other's list of maybe-tolerated acquaintances.

Which was just... great.

And after the reception today, they wouldn't see each other again. He couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Scratch that. It was definitely a bad thing.

Whatever. If that stubborn idiot wanted to be by alone for the rest of his life, so be it. It was none of his business. Not like he cared, or anything.

"Everything alright, Allen?"

The white-haired adult looked up at Johnny, who was in the process of laying out the champagne glasses.

Allen opened his mouth to say that he was fine, or maybe just complain that Kanda was the biggest idiot on the planet, when a scream pierced the air.

Lenalee.

The Brit handed the place settings to Johnny before practically bolting across the room. Allen was so focused on finding his friend that he barely noticed when Kanda joined him in the hallway, the duo sprinting towards the dressing room.

Lenalee had been in the midst of getting into her wedding dress when things had fallen apart.

Literally.

The gown's red sleeve was on one side of the room, skirt halfway out of the seams. For whatever reason, the dress had been either poorly sewn or just not cared for properly so Lenalee could wear it, and now that it was the big day, the wedding dress had given out entirely. It would take a seamstress several hours to fix it all, assuming there weren't any major tears in the fabric.

The bride-to-be was beautiful – her dark bob arranged in a wild up-do only Klaud could manage – as she stared at her ruined dress in horror, robe clutched tight around herself.

"Lenalee?" Lavi called, panicked, as his leather shoes pounded into the room.

Neither Kanda nor Allen bothered stopping him with pleas about not seeing the bride before the wedding. Mostly because… well, it couldn't get much worse at that point.

"Lenalee, what's- Oh god."

Lenalee clutched at her makeup-ed face, staring at her dress in horror. "Lavi."

The redhead didn't hesitate before grabbing his soon-to-be-wife into a strong hug, wisely pulling her gaze away from the ruined Chinese wedding dress. "We'll figure something out. It'll be Ok."

Would it?

Lenalee seemed to have the same thoughts. "No, Lavi, it's just… this is a sign. It is. It is," her desperate voice was muffled some by Lavi's tux jacket. "First the flowers, then the photographer, then the food… this is the last straw."

"Baby…"

There had to be something he could do. Allen and Kanda were their best friends – there had to be some way to fix this.

Looking at Kanda on his left didn't fill the Brit with confidence; standing in the doorway in his wedding tux, lips pulled down in a frown with his sapphire eyes looking both pissed off and concerned at the same time. And not talking.

"Ugh, I just- I just can't! The wedding dress, my brother, your grandpa!" Lenalee continued, stepping back from Lavi's embrace to wipe at angry tears. Thanks to whatever industrial-strength make-up had been employed, her face remained perfect.

"I know, but what should we do? That's what this wedding's going to be," Lavi agreed, exasperated as he ran fingers through styled strands of red hair.

"I know! I just… I don't want this!"

"You… don't want to marry me?" Lavi asked, looking more than hurt.

Lenalee dropped her hands, rushing over to her fiancé. She clasped his face in her hands, making a point to meet that single emerald eye. "Of course I do. I love you."

Lavi grinned, relieved, palm covering her left hand. The one with her engagement ring. "Then… what do you want, Lenalee?"

She bit her bottom lip, a nervous tick from middle school. "I just want to marry you."

And it was that, seeing the sight of his distressed friends, that had Allen opening his mouth. "Then don't get married."

Three sets of eyes turned to him in shock mixed with surprise. Or Kanda, who was just… shocked. But not in a good way.

Allen quickly amended, "No, I mean, get married – you two are, like, meant for each other. I just mean… elope, or something." When misunderstanding continued to prevail, he continued, "I mean, you guys wanted to honeymoon in Africa, right? Get married there. Elope and make a trip of it."

Too busy trying to decipher Kanda's silent facial language, he didn't notice Lavi and Lenalee kissing until she started laughing.

"That's great! We should-"

"Yeah, let's do it," Lavi agreed with a fond smile at his fiancé, the two so caught up in their own eyes it took a minute for reality to hit.

"But… what about the wedding?" Lenalee poised aloud, glancing at her three friends. "All the guests, the cake, and…"

"Moyashi."

That single word drew Allen's attention back to Kanda's dark gaze.

It was almost ironic that of all the times Allen couldn't read the Japanese man's not-so-subtle wordless thoughts, this was one of those moments he understood them. Loud and clear.

"What the hell, Bakanda?" Now it was his turn to be pissed off. "You ignore me for the past day and _now_ you want to do this? Bloody hell, not just do this, but actually get-"

"Moyashi."

As always, that word stopped his ranting. Kanda's sapphire eyes were filled with… determination. Determination that the two of them go through with this. And it was clear Kanda had no intention of giving up.

"I needed to leave. Before," Kanda grit out like he was literally pulling teeth and trying to talk at the same time.

"But I won't leave you again."

Allen opened his mouth to argue because two sentences did not make up for over four years of being ignored by your best friend, frenemy, whatever. Four years of college without someone to talk to, someone to make things interesting. Someone to make him feel… any less alone. 

Two sentences didn't cover Kanda's blatant rejection just the day before.

Allen opened his mouth to say that.

Only to stop at the look on Kanda's face.

More specifically, a pair of sapphire eyes that were normally glaring and pissed-off, but instead were filled with... something. Regret, determination, and confidence. That same confidence and determination that defined Kanda in every aspect of his life.

That look was directed at Allen.

He couldn't stop the small twinge of... _something_ in his chest. Something warm.

This was Kanda. He knew Kanda. And Kanda never did anything unless he wanted to do it (or Lenalee made him - nothing said Holiday Cheer like intimidating Kanda with a clipboard).

Allen knew Kanda. And Kanda was trying to give him what he'd been asking for the other day - time together. Only with interest.

Years and years of interest. Plus a gold ring to make sure it stayed that way.

"No."

That was the only possible answer. Because… just no. Hell no. Sure, he wanted to see Kanda more than every few years, but that - what Kanda wanted - was a huge commitment. Not a decision to make in the spur of the moment just to make a point.

"Have you actually thought about this?" Allen asked with a slight twinge of desperation. "This is, like, the rest of your life, Bakanda! You can barely stand to be in the same room with me most of the time! And you want... this?"

A _tsk_ was his only answer, some determination giving way to irritation. "I know what I'm doing."

It was official. Kanda was a stubborn idiot.

A small part of Allen was screaming that this was a bad idea. Because it was a huge decision. Agreeing to spend the next however many years with his sometimes-frenemy was a huge step in the direction of suicide-by-Mugen.

But another part… a much larger part of him, was actually... excited? More excited than Allen had ever been about anything ever before. Because the two of them… they weren’t exactly friends. And they weren’t exactly enemies.

Kanda was giving him a chance – for the first time in the history of ever – to find out just what they were.

So what if it wasn't the normal way? Who said doing things the ‘normal’ way was the best?

He and Kanda were anything but normal. 

Kanda didn't bother with words. He showed how he felt with actions. This... was him taking the first step. An action. A promise and a commitment.

It was another adventure. It was them.

"Yes. Fine."

Kanda might have actually smirked. Which was totally hot. Especially coupled with a tux that did wonders for his figure. 

"But on one condition: We live in my apartment."

That smirk vanished. "Fuck no. That's like the size of a napkin."

Allen opened his mouth to defend his hearth and home when Lenalee spoke up. "Why not buy a new place together?"

Allen and Kanda stared each other down with narrowed eyes.

"It needs to have an oven."

"And a bathtub."

"Fine. And on the ground-floor." He had to walk Tim, after all.

Kanda scowled before compromising, "Patio. And a queen bed."

"Double."

The other shrugged his shoulders. Agreeing, for once.

Lenalee squealed in child-like glee. "Yes, yes, yes! Can I be best-man? Can I?"

Allen grinned, snapping her up before Kanda could. "Of course."

Kanda's muttered curse was the only sign before Lavi almost tackled him in a hug. "God damn, Yuu! This is… the proudest moment of my life!"

And, well, if maybe there was a sniffle or some tissues needed, that was no one's business.

After all, what happened in Key Largo stayed in Key Largo.

**XXXXX**

"Mawage. Mawage is what bwings us togefher, today."

Allen would bet five double-double cheese burgers that the priest who was marrying them was the same priest from _Princess Bride._

No, seriously. The guy had the same wavy hair, three-layer priestly robes, and conical hat (complete with two little tails on the back). Not to mention his voice, which just kept droning on. At the rate they were going, he and Kanda wouldn't be married until the next year.

Yep. Allen and Kanda. Getting married. A situation that usually only popped up in Allen's worst nightmares. Except his nightmares also included chainsaw killers and Timcanpy in a tutu.

Needless to say, reality was five times better than any dream.

"Mawage… That bwessed awayngement…"

And the look in Kanda's eyes… it was so piercing Allen might have blushed. A little. Of course, it didn't hurt that Kanda could pull off a tuxedo like Lavi could rock an eyepatch – confident, broad-shouldered, and that little piece of fabric doing a great job bringing attention to a kick-ass figure. Kanda's ponytail, too, was still in peak form, bangs beside his face framing a small smile that Allen knew was meant only for him.

Not that anyone was paying attention. And who would be, when they were getting married on a private beach, sun in the sky and breeze on their faces?

Allen was so caught up in gazing into Kanda's eyes that he almost forgot about his best man. Almost did, until a female whisper from the right. "Lavi, the rings, the rings!"

Lenalee, who'd ended up borrowing one of the high-neck oriental bridesmaid dresses (which only fit because her and her cousin were practically identical), seemed more focused on getting their wedding in place than actually waiting for the priest to get to the right question.

"Babe, I'm not giving them our wedding rings," Lavi hissed from the other side of the aisle in his wedding tux.

"Not that. Those! Those ones."

It was either thanks to some serious hand-waving or the divine telepathy that comes with the soon-to-be-married that Lavi understood what in the hell Lenalee was talking about.

Although 'soon-to-be-married' was going to be further in the future now that Allen and Kanda were the ones getting hitched.

And 'getting hitched' they were. The two adults standing on the beach that was supposed to be for their best friends' wedding, wearing the tuxes they'd rented for the event. The sun was headed towards the crest in the sky, salty breeze ruffling the hair escaped from Allen's tamed ponytail. The movie-quality priest reading them through passages in the bible about true love, happiness, and eternal devotion.

All of the guests were there. The two men at the alter didn't notice any of them.

"Have you, the whing?"

"Oh, right," Lavi finally said at a volume just audible over the crashing waves, producing a set of rings from his pocket with a flourish.

"What the fuck, Usagi," Kanda snapped.

"What?"

"Cereal box prizes? Really?" Allen questioned, shooting the redhead friend a baffled expression.

"Hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?" Lavi smirked.

Well, he wasn't wrong.

Before Kanda could change his mind, Allen reached across the foot of space to take the ring and the Japanese man's slender left hand. A hand that was warm and calloused but didn't shy away when Allen slid the bubble-gum pink plastic ring over Kanda's fourth finger.

Which was a true testament to Kanda's love and devotion since the thing was absolutely hideous.

Kanda's brows were wrinkled in concentration (which was seriously cute) as he worked to get the aqua plastic diamond ring onto Allen's hand. It was a bit tight, but he managed to make it fit. Even if it took the last of Kanda's drained patience to get it there.

Neither let go of the other's fingers as the suspiciously-familiar priest went through the motions. They held each other's gaze across the aisle. And, unlike the sort-of proposal back in the changing room, neither of them looked uncertain. Allen just felt… ready. And happy, with a grin wide enough to swallow more than just a French fry as he stared at the man he'd be spending the rest of his life with.

Through the good, and given the way their luck ran, mostly the bad, they would handle everything in life together. And that was fine with him. There was no one more interesting, more stubborn, or more annoying that he'd rather spend his life with.

The priest made sure to ask both parties if they genuinely wanted to wed the other. And, since neither had prepared any vows, that part passed pretty quickly.

"I do."

"I do."

And then, the priest finally intoned the magic words. Much to everyone's surprise when he ended up saying, "Man and wife."

Lavi snorted from across the aisle. Lenalee's grin was shit-eating.

"I guess I'll be the man and kiss you first," Allen finally said in the ensuing silence.

Kanda _tsk_ ed before taking the initiative himself.

And sure, Kanda had to lean down a bit. Only… one kiss wasn't enough.

It wasn't until Timcanpy started barking that he noticed the guests were clapping, Lenalee wiping at her own tears while Lavi laughed. Kanda wasn't looking away as he pulled his hands off of Allen's back and his tongue out of the other's mouth. Allen, whose hands had gone significantly lower than the other's back, did the same, trying not to blush.

As the two of them looked into each other's eyes, lips a little puffy and eyes full of excitement, there was something else in that moment. Like a promise for more adventures in the future. Adventures that would hopefully be not as crazy as the last three days, but ultimately would turn out alright.

Because the two of them would be together. That was all that mattered.

...Or something else equally sappy. Whatever.

"And now, we feast!" Lavi announced with all the gravity of a true best man.

Oh, that's right – food. The day just kept getting better and better.

Only, before Allen could do more than intertwine his fingers with Kanda's – the other's grip strong and so comforting the Brit was ten seconds from deciding to skip dinner and sneaking out with his new husband – there was a roar of an engine on the beach. An engine so familiar that Allen almost thought he'd imagined it as all heads turned towards the sound.

_It couldn't be._

The motorcycle roar grew louder as it headed for the assembled white chairs, sand spinning behind the tires as it drove over the loose beach.

A set of tires that were attached to an eerily familiar motorcycle with candy-apple red paint and a side car. The driver remained a mystery until he pulled up right next to the newlyweds and pulled off his helmet, revealing a familiar ivory mask covering the right half of his face and lenses perched on his nose. A trench coat and heavy boots completed the man known to all as Cross Marian.

"Bullshit."

Because... what the hell.

Cross finally turned the puttering engine off, dropping the kickstand before dismounting the bike. The fifty assembled guests all held their breath as the bane of everyone's existence pulled a cigar from his jacket and lit it.

"Jesus, what took you so long?" Klaud Nine was the first to break the silence, blonde head glinting in the afternoon light. "You've known about the wedding for weeks!"

"No one told me my kid was getting married until two hours ago," Cross sighed, hands running through his burgundy hair.

Like a morally-impaired Moses parting the red sea, Cross marched through the audience, sights set on the two grooms still standing at the aisle.

Allen flinched when one of Cross' coarse hands came within five inches of his face… only to land on Kanda's shoulder.

"Take good care of him, Kanda," the redhead intoned, staring straight at the Japanese man.

If Allen's jaw hadn't dropped already, it did now.

"I mean it," Cross continued in his gravely voice. "I don't want to ever see him again."

…and there it was.

Kanda grunted his wordless _maybe_ which seemed to satisfy Cross. Another shoulder pat before Allen's guardian spun away. "Did I hear someone mention a party or what? Bring out the booze!"

Lavi, the only one still remaining after Lenalee shuffled the guests into the reception house, stood beside the still-frozen newlyweds.

He placed a hand on Kanda's shoulder. "Man, and I thought my in-laws were crazy. Almost forgot who you'd have to be dealing with."

Kanda snorted. And, well, no one really disagreed.

**XXXXX**

"Did you get the clothes?"

"Yeah, they're in your duffle. Which is like the size of Timcanpy, by the way. I mean, Lavi and Lenalee already got their wedding presents – what the hell do you have in here? Your favorite beauty products?"

"None of your damned business. Just be glad your dog gets the whole sidecar to himself."

"Our dog now, Bakanda."

"Dogs are not fucking kids, Moyashi."

"No? 'cause we feed him and water him."

"Fuck that. I did not give birth to him," Kanda snapped, in the midst of tying down their bags to the back rack of the motorcycle.

He didn't hear Allen come up behind him so much as feel him. "Well… we could practice," A completely even voice said in his ear while a pair of familiar hands grabbed his ass.

"Do I need to give you a biology lesson?"

"Depends. Will we be alone?"

Even under Kanda's glare, the other's grey eyes filled with a teasing glint… and something else. Something else that meant, yes, they'd have to be alone. For far longer than just the previous night, which had apparently been too short to fully enjoy each other.

They were quickly brought back to reality when Tim let out a bark. Far more willing to be on the road now that he had the promise of a windy side-car to keep him company.

"Guess we better hit the road," Allen said with a small, resigned sigh. "We still swinging by your place on the way?"

Kanda grunted in agreement, finishing the tie-downs before going to mount the motorcycle.

Only to stop when he found someone already seated there.

"What the fuck are you doing."

"Driving. What does it look like?" Allen answered, shoving keys into the ignition, engine roaring to life.

"Considering your luck with vehicles, that's a crap idea."

"Hey, you got to drive your car. I get to drive my bike," The Brit answered, a small hit of sadistic satisfaction in his voice. "Unless you want to walk?"

Walk, or put his life in the hands of Allen's short attention span trying to drive a motorcycle that had had already broken down once in the last three days?

"Wait, Bakanda!" Allen called as Kanda shouldered his duffle, starting off down the two-lane highway, gravel crunching beneath his boots. "Oh, come on! Do you even know how to drive one of these?"

"Do you?"

"God, if I'd known you were this cruel I wouldn't have married you," came a resigned voice barely carried on the breeze.

As Kanda continued to walk, the motorcycle engine cut off. The pounding of sneakers before a strong hand was around Kanda's arm, stopping him in place. Allen was obviously irritated, highway winds grabbing at his hair, motorcycle helmet in his other hand.

_But since he did…_

Allen trailed off with a sigh. "Fine." He turned, marching back to the bike with, "But I'm driving us around Miami. None of those shortcuts you're so fond of taking."

Kanda snorted but couldn't disagree after how shitty the last one had turned out.

It was only after they'd both mounted the motorcycle, helmets on, that the Moyashi asked, "Stop for fries first?"

"There's no place to put the trash."

"Dude, this is my motorcycle. We'll just stuff it in with Tim."

"I'm not dealing with a constipated dog." Nothing was safe from Timcanpy – not even greasy burger wrappings that smelled like meat.

"Oh, come on. A few paper wrappings aren't going to kill him."

"I'll kill you if he shits all over my jacket."

"Then don't put your jacket in with the dog, Bakanda. Do I really have to explain this?"

"Shut up, Moyashi. No means no."

He could practically hear the eye-roll in Allen's voice. "You're lucky I love you."

Yes, he was. Not that Kanda was about to say that out-loud.

The two (finally) sped down the road headed from the Florida Keys towards Portland, Maine, with a cardboard sign reading 'Just Married' tied to the back. The sun was shining full overhead, Allen's arms around his waist, humid air whipping at their clothes as Kanda merged with north-bound traffic.

And as Allen did the shittiest job imitating Willie Nelson over the helmet speakers, Timcanpy barking at every passing piece of foliage, and Kanda doing his best to find a place with good fries, he knew it was going to be a long 21 hours.

But strangely enough, he didn't mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like the ending. And honestly, it wasn't even my idea - you can thank my best friends for finally getting fed-up with my whining.
> 
> Also, if you want to hear how the priest is supposed to sound, google 'Princess bride wedding scene' and it should be the first youtube video. Don't listen to anyone else talk and there shouldn't be spoilers XD
> 
> I really had a fun time writing this and I hope you guys liked reading it too. I'm so appreciative of all the kudos, bookmarks, and comments I've gotten along the way - so thank you!
> 
> I'd love to hear anyone's final thoughts on this if you have time to leave a comment. Otherwise, thank you again for reading and Happy Holidays!


End file.
